


Catalyst

by PureNoodlles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 66 Seals (Supernatural), ABBA songs mentioned a lot, Alternate Universe, Angel Dean Winchester, Angel Sam Winchester, Angst, Apocalypse, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Dean "I don't know what privacy is" Winchester, Demonic Sacrifices, Demons, Enemies to Friends, Explicit Language, Fallen Angel Dean Winchester, Fallen Angel Sam Winchester, Fluff, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Human Gabriel (Supernatural), Human Jack Kline, Hunter Castiel (Supernatural), Hunter Gabriel (Supernatural), M/M, Mentioned Kelly Kline - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychic Kaia Nieves, Slow Burn, Swearing, Violence, hunter jack, its a supernatural fic what do you expect, lots and lots of angst, no i really mean it when i say slow burn, not adding some important tags for the sake of spoilers, pinky promises, reverse!verse, so you'll have to read to find out ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-16 15:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18523957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PureNoodlles/pseuds/PureNoodlles
Summary: ‘Why didn’t he die? What was he?’ Cas was getting really pissed off by this mystery man, who stormed over towards his bent over body. The sound of the knife clattering on the ground joined that of his footsteps.Dean slid his fingers through his tattered, messy black locks and gripped them harshly. Cas hissed at the pain and reached to dig his fingers into the skin of the man’s wrist.“You’re really a pain in my ass,” the man grumbled in a low voice.Castiel bit back a smile at Dean’s obvious annoyance and opened his mouth to retort, but was met by a stabbing pain in his throat. Despite it, he chuckled hoarsely. “B-Bite me, big boy.” Man, this is why he stopped hanging out with Gabriel.________________________________Seventeen years ago, an unholy greed consumed God’s children. The Gates of Hell were ripped open and an unspeakable evil was unleashed upon the mortal world. Now, as the sun begins to dim and the stars start to plummet from the sky, the Creator must watch as his creations fight to reverse the hellfire that they’ve caused. The only question is, how much are they willing to sacrifice to do so?





	1. Prologue pt.1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, before you continue any further I'd like to say a few things.
> 
> Thank you so much for taking the time to check out this story and I hope you enjoy! We worked very hard on this so please leave any feedback/comments you may have! We'd love to hear what you think of it!
> 
> I want to also thank:
> 
> @oc_tastrophes (Instagram) for being my co-writer and editor, without her this fic wouldn't be as good as it is and I love her so much for everything she's done.
> 
> @heebeejee_ (Instagram) for being my beta-reader and for her contributions to the AU. The original plan for this story was so much different, so I owe her a lot for her amazing ideas.
> 
> The entire Reverse AU groupchat for their support and ideas, the AU couldn't have developed this far without them. Hell, I doubt there'd even be a fic if it wasn't for them.
> 
> If you have the extra time then I suggest checking out thir @s because they're wonderful people and they make awesome art!
> 
> Other accounts to check out:
> 
> [ask accounts - ask the boys anything! Chapter preview art, announcements and any delays that may occur are all featured here]  
> ask-blueeyedpops (Tumblr)  
> ask.blue.eyed.pops (Instagram)
> 
> [Reverse AU playlists]  
> big daddy misha (spotify)
> 
> With that said, have fun reading!

An exasperated sigh escaped Castiel’s lips as he lifted his head to look at his son, who was seemingly ignoring him.

“Jack…” he called out impatiently to the boy. Like a pot of soup, his frustration bubbled in his stomach, ready to explode any minute. Jack didn’t reply; the only thing he got close to a response was a bitter exhale. ‘Calm down, Cas. Be patient. Don’t lose your temper,’ he pitifully chanted to himself to ease the tension in his mind.

He waited…

And waited…

…And waited…

As the silent seconds passed by, his frustration bubbled and bubbled and bubbled, until finally, the metaphorical soup within him surged and overflowed - all hell breaking loose.

“For God’s sake, Jack, what were you thinking? What you did was beyond reckless!” Okay, he may have been overreacting, but they’d barely got out of that hunt alive for fuck’s sake! He felt as if someone had loosened a screw in the dam that was holding back all of his worry, fear, and anger, and now it was all gushing out one tidal wave at a time. He could hear the faint, shaky tone in his voice and felt a hot sting strike his eyes – a warning sign that any minute now, his emotions wouldn’t be the only thing overflowing. God, what had they done wrong? It was supposed to be an easy job; they get in, stay a day or two, then get out. They were only dealing with a few vampires, but when they went to strike, they were absolutely surrounded and everything from then on was a blur. ‘How did we even get out?’ He couldn’t recall. The last thing he remembered was the sound of himself screaming desperately at Jack to get out while he still had a chance. Jack hadn’t listened  – he’d jumped into the massive hoard of bloodsuckers before everything went black. “Jack, please. We’ve talked about this… When I tell you to leave, you don’t stagger, you don’t hesitate; you just leave! It doesn’t matter what happens to me-“

“They were going to kill you!” Jack suddenly snapped as his head jerked towards him. Castiel screwed his mouth shut, so lost in his thoughts that he was taken aback by his outburst. Jack was shaking. “And I panicked, okay? I panicked, and I messed up! I just… they were going to tear you apart like animals, and I couldn’t just…” Jack trailed off, and like a damp towel being thrown over a burning pan, his words had snuffed out the raging anger that was swirling around in his mind. Silence had come to greet them again, and Castiel felt guilt settle into the pits of his stomach. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to lecture him; Jack was clearly as exhausted as he was, and it was unfair of him to be yelling at his son like this.

With slow steps, Cas ambled towards Jack and gently scooped the shaking boy into his arms. “I’m sorry. It’s okay, Jack… We can talk about this in the morning.” He shushed him quietly, combing his fingers through his hair and letting the boy cry into his shoulder for a moment. Noticing how much he was trembling, Cas held him tighter, hoping it would soothe him a bit more. “I’m sorry, Jack…” They stayed like that, gripping one another tight in each other's arms, until Jack reluctantly retracted from their embrace. “Bit better?” he asked as he used his thumb to swipe away the tears decorating Jack's face.

His eyes softened when Jack merely sniffled and nodded in response, offering Cas a small smile. “I didn’t want to lose you, too…”

Castiel’s heart sank at this statement, and he resisted the urge to pull him into another tight hug; instead he patted his head and smiled in return. “I know, kiddo, and you won’t, but I don’t want to lose you either.” He sighed and paused for a minute to think before speaking up once more. “How about we watch a movie? I’ll let you pick – even if it’s one of those cheesy rom-coms you like.” He could practically see Jack’s eyes light up in response. He stifled a chuckle at how quickly his son’s mood seemed to shift. Deep down, he knew the boy was probably still as upset as he was, but it was alright. There was always tomorrow.

“I gotta warn you, Dad; you’re gonna regret that so bad.” Jack snickered

“At least have a little mercy on your ol’ pops,” Cas huffed.

“No promises.” Jack was about to turn, but stopped. “Also, Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Please take a shower. You stink.”

“Hey! Cheeky…” He ruffled the younger boy’s head and laughed when he wore a scowl for his currently messy hair.

Jack smoothed out his locks with a chuckle. “For real though, Dad-“

“I know, I know, shower. Don’t worry.” Cas held up his hands in defeat and strolled towards the door. For a split second, the cheerful façade and happy atmosphere dissolved, leaving only the two of them and the elephant in the room. He frowned. How many times were they going to have to discuss the basic rules of hunting before Jack finally listened? There was still that feeling of fear clawing at the walls of his insides - the feeling that next time, they might not get out so lucky. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let Jack slip away. He wasn’t going to lose him – he was too important to him - and he had promised _her_ that he’d take care of him. Quickly, he forced those negative feelings down to their rightful places (in the very, very tiny corner at the back of his mind), before they could get to him, when Jack started to pester him.

“Oh my God, Dad. I know you’re old, but hurry uuuuppppppp!” Jack groaned.

“I’m going! Why are you in such a hurry to get rid of me? You got a boyfriend or girlfriend that I don’t know about?” he teased, quickly shuffling to the side to barely dodge the book that came flying at him.

“DAD!” Jack bellowed, and Cas quickly fled the room in a fit of giggles.

  


 

 

Cas slipped a cobalt vest over his purple-striped shirt, the action followed immediately by the scent of lilies flooding his nose, and sighed tiredly. The smell was more than welcomed after their long drive home in shirts and jeans dirtier than the mud that was splattered across the road they were driving on. He ruffled his soaked hair with the towel and squeezed it dry, draping the towel across his shoulders. The events of the hunt made him exhausted. Dazed. He had hoped the shower would ease the tension from his shoulders, but it just made him more wound up and irritated. He paced across the room, yawning, stretching his arms and back as an attempt to relax. He groaned in unrestrained content when he felt his bones shift and click. God, was he that old?

Cas’ eyes scanned the room tiredly for a minute before they landed on a neatly framed picture carefully set on top of the wooden dresser. Like magnet to metal, the picture drew him in; he ultimately let himself be pulled slowly towards the dresser. As he got closer, he found his fingers lightly grazing over the top of the frame, and whatever feeling shot up next felt like an invisible dagger had dug itself deep into his heart.

He remembered when they took that. _Early summer - the sunlight had painted a gentle, golden hue across all that lay in its wake and had casted cool, grey shadows within the nooks and crannies its golden touch couldn’t reach._ A woman - not just any woman - stood beside him in the photo, holding their child in her arms. Her carefully cut auburn hair that he had loved to touch so much fell gracefully to her shoulders, and the soft, yet joyful smile adorning her face melted his heart. And her name. The one that made him feel an unending, sugary warmth inside as it was shaped with his tongue, teeth, and lips when he called to her -

“Kelly…” he whispered to himself, despair flooding his voice along with the memories. Saying the word again, all he can feel now is its cold, bitter taste.

A sudden smash resounded from the other room, snapping him out of his trance and almost making Cas’ skeleton leap out of his skin.

With a heavy sigh, he rushed to the door and worriedly yelled into the hallway: “Jack? Is everything okay?”

An eerie silence was the only response given. He wasn’t sure if Jack just hadn’t heard him, or if he was too busy to respond. Did he have his earphones in again?

“Jack?” he tried once more, and what graced his ears next only served to feed the fire of the worries growing in his mind.

“DAD!” he heard Jack cry. “Dad, help-“ His son’s voice cut off abruptly, but the sound of his distress told him everything he needed to know. His world stopped turning in that moment - he felt like he was going deaf. Time slowed, and a coldness seeped into his bones. Was the hallway spinning? ‘No. No, no, no, no!’ Something in his mind clicked, and before he knew it, his legs propelled him forward into sprinting down the hallway like his life depended on it. Everything was moving so frustratingly slowly; he felt like he wouldn’t make it, that even when he was bolting down the empty hallway faster than a motorbike could move, he’d still be too late. He fought to keep balance in the rocking halls, clawing his way towards the boy’s room. He kept hopelessly calling out Jack’s name, yelling out unintelligible words, panting, in hopes that he would find the young boy stepping out of the room in confusion, holding his headphones in his hands, and asking him what’s up.

He didn’t step out though. Instead, Cas was met with the sounds of more smashing and loud thuds coming from the room Jack was in before he’d left to shower.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally reached the door, slamming it open hard and forcefully from the locks. He was sure he’d left a dent in the wall from the horrible sound that was made when the door collided with it. Cas stumbled inside, breathless and gasping for any bit of oxygen he could get as his vision blurred. He wasn’t sure if it was the combination of his exhaustion and lack of oxygen or the millions of thoughts swarming his mind that keeled him over, but as his vision started to clear, he could make out two - no, three shadows in front of him. One of them being Jack, eyes wide and afraid.

“Jack, what’s-“ He immediately trailed off when everything finally stopped spinning, seeing the two other figures in front of him more clearly.

They both held Jack against the wall by the arms and were roughly trying to keep him still while he kicked his legs about and struggled to break free. One of the men had long, coffee brown hair that fell down to his shoulders. He towered over the other guy like a giraffe, or a moose, even, and was taking up most of the burden of restraining Jack’s small body by the grips of his wrists. A mildly shocked expression decorated his face when he turned his moppy head and saw the newcomer standing there, but it disappeared quickly as he muttered something to the other man. Cas couldn’t hear them, but he guessed that Jack did when the boy instantly stiffened and threw his head forward to bite the exposed meat of the gigantic man’s arm. To Cas' surprise, the giant didn't react. Not one grimace of pain flashed across his face. A slightly pissed expression washed over instead as he turned his head to look back at Jack, prying him off of his arm with a painful yank of his hair. With one of them distracted, Cas’ mind screamed at himself to make a move.

“Dean!” An unfamiliar voice broke the silence in the room.

Just as the word was said, Cas used it as a signal to finally dash for the spare gun they kept hidden in the drawer. Only a couple of thoughts cycled furiously in his mind. ‘I need to save Jack. I need to kill these guys. I-’ But following his movement was the sound of pounding footsteps barreling his way. Before he could even brush his fingers along the handle of the drawer, he felt harsh hands grab him to pull him away and roughly pin him against the wall. As it happened, the back of his head made contact too fast with the cold, hard surface, and he groaned at the sharp pain that followed. The mysterious, shorter man with dirty blonde hair was gripping him by the throat and was somehow able to hold him up insanely high, like a poster pinned to a tack-board. Cas didn’t have time to focus on that fact or the throbbing pain in his head, though. Instead, he reached up and gripped the guy’s arm, digging his nails into his cotton cardigan. He wanted to turn his head to see if Jack was still okay, but the thick fingers that squeezed tighter were preventing him.

“Who are you?” Cas hissed slowly, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring harshly at his captor. The man didn’t respond, an unsettling beat of silence passing between the two of them. He was only met with cold eyes burning into his own, and it was in that moment that he was able to get a better look at the male. Faint freckles were scattered across his face like daisies in a meadow. He wasn’t exactly baby-faced, with the hard lines embedded in his expression along with light stubble dotting his jawline.

He also wasn’t awful looking; but it was the eyes that stood out the most to Cas. They were deep green, like rainforests, with touches of golden speckles splattered all over them like sun rays. They were gorgeous, he’ll admit - but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that if he stared too long, he’d be eaten alive by one of the feral beasts living within said rainforests. The sound of Jack’s struggling and crying for them to stop was the only thing keeping him grounded in the situation; good looks be wicked and damned, he was going to castrate this guy when he manages to find his way out of his hold. These two were ruthless. They were threats. Nothing else.

“Hey, answer me! Who the fuck are you?” he tried to yell again. The man’s free hand had shot up to his arm and held it in a death-grip. Suddenly, he felt his arm grow warmer… He’d have ignored it if it weren’t for the fact it was getting hotter and hotter until the smell of something burning invaded his senses. Castiel bit his lip harshly, turning is head to look at the source of the heat, to see it was… his hand. It was just the guy’s fucking hand. A cry threatened to spill from his lips, but he held it in, refusing to let even a little whimper fall from him as a sign of weakness or vulnerability.

“Dean, we need to go!” the other man called out to the one (who he assumed was Dean) that was currently gripping him. There was another beat of silence, as if the blonde man was heavily conflicted by his words. He was frozen, gears turning in his head.

After he seemed to make a decision, he leaned forward slightly and finally spoke. “Stay out of our way,” he growled gruffly, letting Cas drop unceremoniously to the ground and returning to his gigantic partner. Castiel rubbed his neck, gasping for air immediately after his release, and pressed his palm against his head in pain. He remembered that weapons were in the other room. But when he saw the two figures walking away at the corner of his eye, he bit the inside of his lip again and forced himself to move - he picked himself up and ran after the man who was holding Jack, reaching out to grab his son, determination and desperation fuelling him. There was no time. He wouldn’t let them get him. No. No. He won’t let them take him away!

When he was inches away from getting his son back, an invisible force suddenly slammed him, along with his hopes, back into the wall so hard that the breath was knocked out of him. His body fell limp for a split second. Driven and refusing to give in, he pressed the flats of his palms against the dusty ground to get up again. Every time he tried to move, he felt like a million knives were being driven into him from every angle. Every muscle was screaming for him to stop, to give up already, but Castiel was stubborn; he’d rather die than let them get away with Jack. He groaned, arms trembling, and weakly pushed himself onto his feet. Tears were starting to build up in his eyes from the immense agony he was in and from the feeling of hopelessness building up in his stomach, but he stood his ground anyway.

“Let him go,” Castiel muttered. “Let him go!” he roared, stumbling towards them and reaching out for Jack; but before he could get any closer, Dean and his partner’s eyes lit up like light bulbs. A blinding white light encased the whole room. Cas was almost thrown down by its intensity, but kept pushing through nonetheless. He heard the sound of fluttering that followed, and in a split second... they were gone. All three of them. The blinding light had vanished as quickly as it arrived, along with the men. Along with Jack.

Cas stopped and stood there for a moment - stunned, bewildered, and horrified. He stared at the cold, empty spot they were once in with panic and dread, then looked down at his outstretched, empty hands. Shit. Fuck, what the fuck just happened?


	2. Prologue pt. 2

Castiel careened forward and fell to his knees, feeling feebly around in the empty spot his son was once in, like if he kept flailing his arms around enough, maybe he’d be able to find something, anything, that’d tell him what the fuck just happened. Anything to deal with his shock. Anything to prove to him that he wasn’t just going insane and that his son was actually still standing there, safe and just confused.

But he wasn’t here.

It felt like a sinkhole just ripped open in his mind as millions and millions of thoughts flooded in, turning his brain into a bottomless ocean of worries and concern – filled with thousands of questions that, like rabid sharks, were buzzing around, hungry for answers that he couldn’t provide. When the realisation of what he’d lost finally hit him, his arms ceased their futile thrashing, and his hands curled into tight fists. His knuckles turned as white as snow from how tightly he was gripping, and he grit his teeth, holding back a painful sob. Maybe digging his nails deeper into his palms could ground him, help him stop himself from reeling into insanity from the situation. Cut through the sudden waves of sadness that shook his whole being. How could he let them get him?

He couldn’t recall the amount of times he struck his fist against the rigid floor. The teetering anger, that had violently risen from the waves of feelings, had clouded his vision and made his body move on its own. By the time it subsided, and despite the blinding tears, he couldn’t mistake the sight of familiar crimson liquid oozing from his knuckles. Jack was his treasure, the most precious thing to him, and he promised that he’d protect him. His safety came above all else, and if it came to it, Cas would’ve given his life to make sure that he was happy, healthy, and safe. ‘Why couldn’t they have taken _me_ instead? Why did they take my boy? Why did they try to hurt my boy? He’s only a kid!’

The questions inside his head kept multiplying and getting louder until he couldn’t hear anything else but the blood-curdling screams of his own inner thoughts that were begging for answers; vomiting inquiries that he couldn’t even respond to and hammering incessantly against the walls of his mind. He held his ringing head in pain as hot tears spilled from his eyes once again. ‘What were they going to do to him? What could they possibly want with my son? Are they going to hurt him? If they harm even a single hair on his head then I swear to fuck I’m going to-’

He pulled himself onto his feet and wiped away the tears, along with the traces of loud worries that still muttered within his thoughts. Jack can’t be gone. He refused to accept that his son was gone. There was still a chance that maybe he was still okay. Yeah. ‘Pick yourself back up, soldier!’ It’s not too late yet; if he started searching now, maybe he could find him in time and rescue him from the people who took him. All he could do right then and there was to keep feeding himself false hope - to keep greedily devouring it until his thoughts quietened some more. He won't let the heaviness of the situation knock him down onto his knees. He let out a shaky breath, rubbed his nose, and scanned the room, searching for a clue or anything else that can somehow point him in the right direction as to who or what those men were.

Glowing eyes, impossible strength, the sound of fluttering, and then vanishing into thin air – they just couldn’t have been human. ‘Shapeshifter?’ Most unlikely. Dean’s flesh didn’t tear away easily in his grip. ‘Then what?’ He’d never come across creatures like them before, so he was unsure on where to start. He was run dry on ideas. He dug his hands into his pockets and fished out his phone. He couldn’t do this alone – not if he wanted to find Jack before something terrible happened to him. He needed a fresh perspective, someone who could have more insight into this - so he did the only thing he could think to do at the time.

It took him a few attempts because of how shaky his hands were and how blurry his vision was from reoccurring tears but eventually, he managed to successfully dial Balthazar’s number. He pressed the phone to his ear and waited for his brother to answer. He tapped his foot. The time it took ringing felt longer and much slower than it should’ve been - like everything else around him had picked up the pace and was moving too fast. He was a tortoise up against the hare in a race against time and, oh God, was he losing awfully.

There was silence before the other end of the line finally cracked. “ _Y’ello-_ “

“Balthazar, thank fuck I-“

“ _-Balthazar here! If you got this message, then it means you’ve caught me at an embarrassingly awful time, and I can’t answer. If you’re really desperate for my attention though, then leave a voicemail, and I just might hit you back, wink wink… I can’t believe I said that out loud._ ”

“Balthazar, please don’t do this now,” Cas whimpered. He tried calling him again, and again… and again. No answer, the same voicemail. It was at this point that he wanted to throw up all the contents in his stomach from how overwhelmed he felt in that moment.

He tried once more, and the very minute the ‘y’ello’ hit his ear again, he got the urge to smash the phone against the wall. “Just answer me, you ass!” he cried, his voice cracking.

He tossed the phone on the tabletop instead.

There was no one else he could call. Meg was busy with a hunt that she’d been chipping away at for months, his other hunting friends were probably in the same situation as Meg, and his other brothers… Even if he did call them, he knew they’d ignore him – busy or not. He was at a loss for what to do and found himself picking his phone back up and scrolling helplessly through his contacts almost five times. He scrolled and scrolled, until one name caught his eye.

Gabe. Gabriel.

He hadn’t talked to him in ages, and there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t ignore him like the rest of his brothers. Still, Cas was desperate enough, and if it was to save Jack, then he’d do anything. Absolutely anything. Even something as crazy as this. He hesitantly dialed Gabe’s number, pressing the phone back to his ear, and waited anxiously.

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

The longer he waited, the more fidgety he got, and he unconsciously bit his lip. What was he even doing? He didn’t understand why he was getting his hopes up so high, Gabe probably wouldn’t answer-

“ _Cas?_ ”

A confused, tired voice resounded from the other end of the line, and Castiel’s heart missed a beat. ‘Come on, Cas. Say something…!’ He needed to speak, but he froze in fear at the sound - his body had tensed up and gone stiff.

“ _Cas, are you okay? Why’re you calling so late? Cas…?_ ” The voice was growing irritated at the silence. Gabe wasn’t going to be staying on the line any longer if his brother (whom he hasn’t talked to in years) wasn’t going to say anything. Who knows if he’d answer if he tried to call him again?

‘It was now or never. Come on, Cas. Don’t be a coward.’

“Gabe,” he finally breathed out shakily, the name sounding foreign on his tongue. “I… Um, I need your help,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“ _Is everything okay?_ ” He could hear the worry laced in his brother’s voice now. In a way, it comforted him because at least the tone wasn’t of spite or pure disgust this time.

“No.” Cas was getting frustrated by the amount of times he’s had to hold back tears today. “Just… Please hurry. We need to talk. Now. I’ll text you the address.” He didn’t give his brother any time to protest or ask further questions before he ended the call and let out a heavy sigh of relief.

When he had heard Gabe answer that call, he felt something light back up inside of him. Not a feeling that was new, but a feeling that was refreshing. Enlightening. Moving. Maybe there was hope after all. Not much - only a shimmer - but it was enough.

  


 

 

The sound of knocking made Cas’ head perk up, and he rushed, faster than he thought his feet could carry him, to the door. He swung it open without a second thought as to who could be on the other side, but fortunately, it was who he had been expecting to come after spending hours fidgeting on the couch. Hazel eyes met his own in confusion, a beat of silence passing between them. ‘Huh. His hair was longer. Is that stubble? I thought he would’ve grown a little taller after all these years, but his eyes are the same. Worn out - but still kind.’ Seeing the shorter man, here, in front of him and seemingly ready to help him however he can, suddenly unlocked everything Castiel had been trying so hard to keep in as unwanted feelings broke through like a dam. As a result, those feelings filled up the rims of his eyes with warm tears. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around the shorter man, shoulders trembling. He could feel his brother tense up at the contact before a small hand lightly patted his back.

“Hey, little bro. Miss me?” Gabriel whispered this gently, as if he was afraid that if he spoke any louder then Cas might break even more. God, he really missed the sound of his voice. What he missed a little less, though, was how observant Gabe was as he flinched at the sound of his groan. “What the hell’s wrong with your arm, Cas? Tell me what happened.” Gabriel carefully gripped his shoulders to lightly push him back. There were bags beneath his eyes that he didn’t notice before.

Cas felt a pang of guilt hit him for calling his brother out here so late. “I’m sorry I-“ he paused to sniffle and wipe his eyes, “It’s Jack. He’s gone.”

“Gone?” Gabriel echoed with confusion, eyebrows furrowing. “Like, he ran away? Or…”

Cas shook his head in response. “I don’t know, it all happened so fast… There were these men and…” He trailed off as he recalled all the events that happened in the past few hours.

Gabe, thankfully, sensed his distress and uneasiness. “How about we talk about this inside over coffee, yeah?” He flashed a tiny smile.

Cas nodded sheepishly. “I… would like that.” He stepped aside to let Gabriel inside, following in after him as the door clicked shut behind them.

  


 

 

Almost an hour later, they were nose-deep in books and have barely found anything relating to the mysterious men that had broken into the house. The sound of the clock ticking in the thick silence was starting to drive the both of them insane.

“I don’t get it!” Gabriel finally yelled out, frustratingly combing back his hair as he tossed aside the useless book in front of him. He kicked his legs off the table and paced the room, hands on his hips. “Are you sure they weren’t shapeshifters?”

“Their skin didn’t tear away; thought of that before-”

“Demons, even?”

“A demon’s eyes don’t glow-”

“Maybe they were werewolv-“

“I know what I saw, Gabriel!” Castiel slumped back in his chair. “They weren’t any of those… I’ve never seen them before.” He sighed, shutting his laptop in sour defeat. They were wasting their time at this point; none of the books Cas owned had anything on what species those men could be, nor was the internet any help. Jack could be dying right now, or worse, and they were just sitting here, blindly mauling anything that flew by them like hyper dogs. What was the point? “I’m sorry for calling you out here so late; I don’t know why I thought that...” The exhaustion in his voice was become clearer and heavier. He sipped at his now-cold coffee miserably in a poor attempt to lighten himself up and rubbed at the aching burn on his arm.

Gabriel suddenly stopped his chaotic pacing. Cas’ gaze fixed on his unsettlingly still frame in confusion. With his eyes boring into the very uninteresting wall, he looked as if something had finally clicked inside his brain.

He started to stare at the burn on Cas’ arm with wide eyes. “I don’t know what they are, but I think I know how we can find them.” Gabriel hastily shoved his hands deep into his pockets until he found and pulled out his phone.

“What do you mean? What are you doing?” Cas shot up onto his feet, almost knocking over his cup of coffee in the process.

“Texting a friend,” he responded, and Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed, more confused than he was before. ‘Why? Why would he be calling a friend right now?’ He wondered what that brain of his was cooking up, but knowing him, Cas had to trust whatever he was doing, so he let him type away. Within five minutes, Gabriel had shoved the phone back into his pocket and plucked his leather jacket from the back of his chair. “Get your coat, Cas. We’re going out.”

“Out? Now? Gabriel-“ This wasn’t part of any plan he’d expected from him.

“Just trust me, Cas. I can find Jack - er, well, my friend can.” Gabriel grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the battered home.

The chilly air struck him immediately after he stepped past the door frame, biting at his skin and clawing its way through his vest and shirt. “Are you sure about this?” He stopped just outside of the other’s car, hugging himself to try and keep what remnants of warmth he had left from slipping away and leaving him to be devoured by the cold.

“When have I never been sure?” he responded with a half smirk, sitting in the driver’s seat. Cas raised an eyebrow. Gabriel only rolled his eyes when he noticed his sibling’s unmoving form still standing outside. He leaned across the passenger seat. “You know what I mean. I swear, she knows what she’s doing; just give her a shot. Please?” he pleaded, swinging open the passenger door. Cas hugged himself tighter, looking off to the distance. They were out of options, and if this could possibly find Jack… What’s the worst that could happen?

He sighed in defeat. “Fine.” He hesitantly climbed into the car next to him. He huffed in relief to finally be out of the cold - not that his car was any better - but it was a step up from standing out there and turning into a human icicle. Gabriel started up the car, turning the heater on. The rumbling of the engine lit up his senses; he could feel the automobile come to life underneath him.

“We’re lucky Kaia doesn’t live far from here. She’s a psychic, just so you know, and I think she can help us track Jack,” the older one rambled as he slipped on his seatbelt and grabbed the wheel.

“Kaia?” Cas repeated the name. He hadn’t heard of her before. He folded his arms and stared out the window, waiting for the car to start rolling out of the driveway, but it never did. This was getting annoying. “Hey, are we gonna move or-“ He turned to face Gabriel only to see him looking back at him expectantly. “What?”

“Seatbelt,” his brother chimed.

Cas’ face morphed into a perplexed expression. “Excuse me?”

“Castiel, I’m not gonna be walking up to Jack with your lifeless body in my arms and then be telling him: ‘Sorry kiddo, your dad died because he was an idiot and didn’t put his seatbelt on while we were driving.’ So don’t make me,” he chided.

Cas was taken back by his brother’s lecture. What? “Gabe we aren’t kids anymore-“

“Tell that to Lady Death. Now shut up and put your seatbelt on.”

“God, you sound like Michael,” Cas muttered sourly under his breath as he reluctantly did what he was told. He didn’t have to look to know his brother was rolling his eyes again at his statement. The car was finally moving, and from then on, everything was dead silent. It was so quiet that you could’ve heard a pin drop, and it would’ve been comforting to have some time to relax if it wasn’t for the awkward atmosphere that was still lingering between the two of them. It stunk. Uncomfortable was an understatement; Cas couldn’t recall the amount of times he slid a hand through his hair, rubbed his chin, played virtual piano with his fingers, or shifted in his seat. Only mere seconds later did he decide that he couldn’t take any more of the loud silence, so he broke it. “How did you meet her?”

“Huh?”

“How did you meet her?” he repeated. “Kaia, that is. She isn’t one of your...“ He raised an eyebrow.

Gabe looked downright offended at the mere suggestion, taking his eyes off the road just to sputter and scowl at him. “Gross, no! _She_ , is actually a kid I saved a while back during a hunt. Kaia and one of her friends got into a bit of trouble with a couple of werewolves, and I had to step in. Sweet kids, though - well, Kaia is, I mean.”

Cas raised the other eyebrow at the last comment, unsure of what it meant. “What do you mean, ‘Kaia is?’ ” His curiosity controlled his mouth before his brain could catch up.

Gabe sighed as he twiddled his thumbs on the wheel. “Well, Claire’s a bit of a troublemaker. Teens, though; what are you gonna do right?” He heard his brother chuckle to himself. “Kaia doesn’t have parents, and I’ve never met Claire’s, but I assumed they got home safely after I dispatched those doggies.” He clicked his tongue. “One hell of a bloody little day that was.”

Cas felt a bit of pride swell up in his heart at his words. “I’m proud of you, Gabriel.” He didn’t respond, but threw a little smirk his way. Cas laughed lightly. He liked this. It was nice. Having talks like this, it felt like they were children again. It felt like the good old days. It felt normal. “Dealing with one teen is hard enough for me; how you could handle two at once while hunting werewolves is beyond me.”

“Guess I’m just a natural,” Gabe jabbed in response with a grin, and with that said, the old feelings instantly dissolved as quickly as they had resurfaced when the car slowly came to a halt. He pulled out the keys, the song of the engine coming to a close, and leaned both arms on the wheel, peering at the structure ahead. “We’re here.”

Castiel peered out the window curiously, his eyes skimming across every detail of the apartment complex sitting in front of them. It was so old and worn down, it was practically ancient. He wondered how crazy his EMF detector would get if he were to scan the thing because of how haunted it looked. Vines scaled up the building and slithered around all four sides, stretching all the way from the cracked concrete floor to the mossy roof. Tiles were chipped and lazily misplaced. Even from the car his eyes could still pick out the crust that caked the wood on the porch, along with the newspapers that covered the expanse of the smudged windows. The paint had dulled so much from neglect that he couldn’t interpret what color it could’ve been before. He grimaced slightly at the sight, but kept his opinions to himself. It wasn’t exactly the worst he’s come across, but that still didn’t change the fact that it looked as if it were going to collapse in on itself at any minute.

He couldn’t judge Kaia for living in such a rundown place though; during a period of time in his life, he didn’t even have a place of his own to crash at. As he pondered further at the fact with a frown, old, unpleasant memories started to rise once more: _The nights spent outside in the freezing cold, clutching the thin fabric of his clothes closer to himself to retain some form of warmth against the bitter chill as he wondered if this was the night he was going to finally freeze to death -_ It didn’t help to know that he was growing more and more conscious of the chill in the air as the engine cooled.  While he shook it off, a feeling of awe bloomed in his chest at how Kaia managed to keep a roof over her head at such a young age. It may not have been the steadiest of roofs, but it was still considered a roof, and Castiel was impressed.

“C’mon, Cas! We haven’t got all night,” he heard the shorter man huff impatiently in the distance.

Gabriel was already standing yards away, while Cas was still sitting with his seatbelt on in the car. That’s embarrassing. “Oh - Sorry,” he muttered as he unbuckled and climbed out. Within the blink of an eye, all the warmth that had embraced him during their ride here had slipped away seamlessly, and his form was completely overpowered by the cold once again. He glowered. Cas dragged his tired feet towards the building while Gabe (surprisingly easily) opened the rusted door for him. He stepped inside, crinkling his nose in response to the wave of thick and stale air that overwhelmed him, and glanced around the interior. The inside of the building seemed to be more well-kept than what its smell and exterior suggested. What it lacked in presentation, it made up for in accommodations. Although, he didn’t have time to admire the white-picket-fence handiwork any further.

“Follow me.” His brother beckoned him towards the stairs, and he hurried over to catch up. As they walked, the sound of their footsteps ricocheted off the walls and echoed throughout the stairwell. When they finally escaped the supposedly never-ending trail of stairs, Cas’ thighs burning from the unexpected workout, they were greeted by a narrow, unsettlingly dim hallway that seemed to stretch as far as the Wall of China. Cas’ heart skipped a beat.

It contrasted from the bright, mundane setting downstairs, and Cas suddenly had the urge to turn around and travel down the stairs again. He didn’t need an EMF meter to know he might die in this place. ‘The red walls are probably meant to hide the evidence of my blood.’ All it needed was a body bag and some hooks on the ceiling to complete the scene. “Gabriel, if this is a trap to murder me then I swear to fuck-“

He rolled his eyes. “Oh my God, Cas. Have a little more faith in me,” the older man chuckled as he tugged his arm towards one of the doors planted in the murder-hallway. “Look, if this is a trap, then I’ll give you full permission to haunt me afterwards.”

“You better,” Cas grumbled bitterly. It didn’t really soothe the fear pooling in his gut, though. ‘Maybe _Kaia_ is the one to murder her victims? Maybe she uses downstairs to put visitors in a false sense of security before luring them upstairs and throwing a bag over their head.’ Yeah. Maybe. He should pull out his silver knife just in case. He tilted his head towards the wooden door situated in front of them. “Is this her place?”

“Yup,” Gabriel replied with a pop of the ‘p’. Cas watched him raise his fist to knock, but before it could even drift an inch closer to the door, it’d swung open to reveal a young girl with a soft, angular face and curly, ebony hair staring tiredly at his brother. Seeing her so disheveled in her shorts and her oversized sweater made Cas think that, huh, maybe the host wasn’t going to try to kill either of them after all. He silently slipped the knife he was holding back in his pants.

“Could you two be any louder?” she complained. “You guys sure took your sweet time. I’ve been waiting for ages!” She leaned against the door frame.

“Relax, pipsqueak. We were only a couple of minutes.” Gabriel huffed and stepped inside without an invitation. The girl, who he assumed was Kaia, didn’t say a word about it and instead leaned forward to look at Cas. What he didn’t expect was for the teen to double take as she registered his face, frozen in stunned silence with wide eyes.

She slightly turned her head towards the room. “I - Gabriel, is this a prank? How do you know-?” She turned back. “I didn’t expect you here. What are you doing here this late?”

Cas just stared back at her in his own stunned silence. ‘Was she on something?’ “Uh, I’m the brother Gabe was talking about that was coming with him. Didn’t… he tell you?”

A few seconds passed with her glazed look before her lips finally moved. “I - Yeah! Of course he did.” She still wore an extremely confused look on her face.

Maybe he’s seen her on previous hunts. He should’ve remembered her face from somewhere for her to react like this. He pressed on. “Have we met before?”

“No.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Sorry… it’s just that - you look a _lot_ like somebody else I know. Sorry for the mix up.” She flashed a small smile, the confusion mostly gone from what he can see.

Before he could question her any further on what she could mean, she backed up to let Cas in as well. He entered the room with a small nod in thanks, and whatever inquiries he had at the tip of his tongue disappeared as he was instantly greeted by the strong scent of jasmine. The room was relatively clean, apart from the stained hoodie and blankets that were strewn across the couch. It looked what you’d expect from a regular teenager’s home, at least.

Her bare feet patted across the wooden floor. “Just make yourself at home while I set up my stuff; you can tell me what happened when it’s all good.” She rubbed her eyes, yawning tiredly. She suddenly turned to face Gabriel and shot a glare at him, bottom lip upturned. “You’ll owe me for calling this late. You know I like my sleep.”

The hunter raised his hands in surrender. “Anything for you, m’lady.”

 

 

 

 

Ten minutes later, the three of them were sat around a small table back downstairs with a candle set in the middle. The flame flickered and burned bright, illuminating their faces as well as the rest of the room and casting away the darkness. It was warm - a good warmth, since Cas had gotten to know Kaia a little bit better while she was setting up and found that she was a pretty sweet kid. He kind of hoped that, after all of this, she and Jack could meet one day. They would get along. They could even become friends. ‘That is’, he frowned, ‘ _if_ we find Jack in time.’

“So let me get this straight - they just vanished? Like…‘poof’?” Kaia repeated, bewildered.

“More like, ‘whoosh!’, but pretty much. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. My brother said you could find Jack though - is that correct?” Castiel asked hopefully. He still needed to cling onto the hope that Jack was okay. They’re getting so close.

“Well, yes and no.” There seemed to be a hint of guilt in the teen’s voice as she spoke. “I can’t give you the exact location, but I can give you an estimation.” The words left her mouth like an echo. As it resounded in Cas’ mind, it felt like he had gotten shot by it. The bullet’s shrapnel ricocheted and tore holes through the hope that was once flying freely and happily within him. It flopped to the ground pathetically and laid limp.

“It’s… better than nothing,” Cas sighed. His hands clenched into fists as he fought to stay afloat. To keep the hope from breathing its last breath.

The sound of her voice was at least a comfort. “I’m going to have to touch something that one of the men have put their hands on already. Maybe a book or-“

“Like Cas’ arm,” his brother cut in.

Suddenly, Kaia’s dark, weary eyes landed on the burnt fabric on his sleeve, fascination flooding her face. “Yeah, that works too.” She lightly grabbed his arm to inspect it and visibly grimaced at the red handprint that was scalded on it. “Hell, this is… It looks like it really hurt.”

“One of the many reasons why I’d like to give the guy a taste of his own medicine,” Cas muttered gravely as she cradled it.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Well, this’ll only take a few seconds, so if you two would just hold hands for a minute.” Kaia linked Gabriel and Cas’ hands together before taking his brother’s other hand into her own to form an incomplete circle. Cas expected Kaia to hold his free hand, like she’d done with his brother, to complete the circle, but instead she set her hand on top of the stinging mark on his arm. He hissed a little at the pain that shot up it, the burn being still fresh and sensitive to any form of contact, and Kaia tossed him a look of apology. He pushed through, though. It was a reminder of what he let happen; he wouldn’t let it dissuade him.

“Don’t move, don’t touch anything, just sit and wait for a moment.” Kaia commanded before she shut her eyes. The two brothers fell silent and sat as still as a statue as she began to chant words in an unfamiliar language. Her brows furrowed and nose scrunched up while she concentrated on tracking Jack. As her chanting continued on, Cas’ mind couldn’t help but wander once again. ‘What if this doesn’t work? What if this is just a waste of time as well? This is taking too long. Are rituals like this supposed to take so long? What’s wrong? What’s-?’

Suddenly, the sound of a sharp, painful inhale halted the chanting and Cas’ thoughts as the two men turned their heads to face Kaia. She was hyperventilating, her nails starting to dig into the burn mark on Cas’ arm, and waves of agony slammed into him. However, he didn’t turn away. His motivation to find out what’s causing her to be like this duped anything else he felt. “What? What is it?”

“Oh my God,” she muttered painfully. “Grab-“ Another painful inhale. “Grab a pen and paper!” she screeched, her voice almost breaking.

“But the circle-“ Gabriel began but he was cut off by the teen.

“PEN AND PAPER!” she bellowed before she broke the circle herself, clutching her head in agony. Cas’s own pain subsiding, he instantly rushed to her side and wrapped his arms around her protectively, rocking her. Gabriel, looking unsure of what to do, finally ran out of the room to fetch what Kaia wanted.

“Kaia, what’s happening? Is everything okay?” Despite their break, she was still trembling, like she was still locked in her nightmarish trance. “Kaia?” He wasn’t sure if it was him, but when he spoke, everything in the room abruptly began to shake. ‘An earthquake?’ His head shot up as the sounds of bottles rattling and plates smashing resounded from the kitchen, a suspenseful rumbling reverberated throughout the apartment. ‘Does this usually happen?’

“It’s so loud!” she cried helplessly. He looked back down at her. It was harder for him to hear her voice as the rumbling magnified. “The ringing, it won’t stop-“ She leaned into him and buried her face deep into his vest as if she was trying to muffle something. “MAKE IT STOP!” she wailed over the noise. Cas was panicking, and his heart was racing and pounding against his chest as he tried to brainstorm something to do. He wanted to help her. Badly. But he couldn’t hear any ringing - only the sound of thunder and more things falling to the floor and shattering. How could she hear something they couldn’t? What was going on? He felt useless. They shouldn’t have asked her to do this. She looked as if she was the same age as Jack. If she got hurt because of him-

Gabriel finally barged in. “I got the pen and paper-” Kaia quickly snatched it out of his hands and hastily scribbled something along the pristine, white surface of the paper, her head still pressed against Cas’ chest. The rumbling and shaking only got worse, and Castiel feared a sinkhole would open up at any moment and swallow them whole. When the last letter was inscribed to the paper, her hand suddenly flopped as Kaia, herself, fell limp in his arms. As if on cue, the room immediately stopped trembling.

“Kaia? Kaia!” He shook her, but got no response. She sat there, eyes closed, heavy and unmoving. Her silence was deadly compared to that of the room. For a moment, Cas’ heart jumped in fear that they lost her until he felt her beating pulse under his roaming hand. While he felt relief wash in, it came in sour.

They fucked up. They shouldn’t have done this.

“Quick! Get her to the couch!” Gabe urged. He sounded surprisingly calm compared to Cas’ shaking. The younger followed his orders and hoisted the teen up bridal style, rushing her to the tattered couch, paper temporarily forgotten. He carefully laid her body down and pulled the blankets over her. The least he could do was make sure she wouldn’t freeze to death. Was it enough, though? What were they going to do? Was she going to wake up?

After a few beats passed with the two hunters heavily breathing, staring at her and trying to think of what to do next, Gabe stood up.

“I’m calling Claire,” he declared.

With Cas’ attention on Kaia, he didn’t notice the way Gabe’s voice slightly broke before saying the last word as he held back his tears.

Castiel sat on the floor next to her body and set his hand on top of Kaia’s. His eyes softened at the sight of the teen, who laid alarmingly still - who could potentially die in the state she was in. This was his fault. This was all his fault. He shouldn’t have called for help; why did he think that this was a good idea? His fingers tangled in hers. He felt like such an idiot. His guilt and regret strung him down by the neck and pinned him to the floor, forcing him to stay, look and reminisce at what he’d done to Kaia. To make the guilt pull him further and further down to the deep ends of his misery.

He didn’t notice the death grip he had on her hand until he felt Gabriel carefully pry his fingers from hers. They were numb. “Breathe, little brother, breathe,” Gabe ordered softly. His voice quivered, but again, Cas didn't notice. When did he stop breathing? He let go of the breath he’d sucked in following his realization, and his whole body sagged in relief after finally getting a little ounce of oxygen back in his lungs.

His throat hurt. “I did this…” Castiel croaked out, slapping his hand over his mouth and reeling his emotions back in to prevent them, and his dinner, from spilling onto the wooden floorboards. The sounds in his mind were cascading again; it felt like he was in a parking lot that was crowded with millions and millions of cars that were honking like their lives depended on it. The noise was incessant. There was no quiet space - no room to think clearly or rationalise the situation. It was just him and the millions of cars that were avidly churning up his fears into a blender.

“What? Castiel, what are you on about?” Puzzled, his brother knelt down in front of him to look him in the eyes. He reached out to lift his chin, Cas’ eyes still glazed over. “Listen to me, Cas: This isn’t your fault. Stop it-“

“You know it’s true, Gabriel! Stop lying! If I just… If I hadn’t asked for your help or hers, then maybe…” He sighed and tucked his knees into his chest. His brother's expression softened. He remembered that he needed to breathe and he took a few inhales through his nose, eyes closed. “I need to make sure she’s okay,” he affirmed.

“Hold on, Cas-“ Gabriel began, but he cut him off, not wanting to listen to what else he had to say.

“Brother, please…“ Cas murmured.

“No, just stop for a minute. You need to calm down.” He scooted closer. “What about Jack? Hm? You need to go-“

“Gabe, I can’t just leave her! Look at her!” the younger exclaimed, his voice cracking.

Quiet – the entire room was quiet with the exception of Gabriel’s heavy breathing. As the echo of the words disappeared, the tension was so thick in the air that either men could have choked to death from it. He could hear the blaring frustration in his brother’s slightly strangled breathing and tried not to focus on it; it would only feed the already-vicious thoughts and sounds in his mind. He was right, anyway. He needed to stay… didn’t he?

Gabe’s head tilted. “... _Castiel_ .” Oh god. He’s using the mom voice. Cas averted his eyes and immediately turned his attention to anything but his brother. He didn’t want to leave Kaia in this state. He didn’t. She was innocent, and he had roped her into this. She’s _his_ responsibility. Gabriel wasn’t going to talk him out of it. “Castiel Emmanuel Shurley. Brother. Look at me.” No. He won’t. No…

’Fine.’ Castiel hesitantly met his oak brown eyes and felt himself shrink under his surprisingly stern gaze. “Gabe…”

The older man’s hands landed on his shoulders, like he was silently urging him to not look away from this - from his true responsibility. “Here’s what you’re gonna do: You’re gonna get up, you’re gonna take my car, and you’re gonna get Jack.” There was a pause that, while it was short, felt like an eternity. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but I want you to know that Kaia will be fine, even if you look away for a minute. C’mon, Honeybee! Just breathe for me, okay? Deep breaths - in, and out. It’ll be okay.” Gabe scooped him into his arms and cradled him. Castiel felt his brother’s fingers carefully slide through his hair and rub his head soothingly as his cheek pressed against the warmth of his chest – something he hadn’t done since they were kids. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it. Slowly and nervously, Cas wrapped his arms around the shorter male and sunk into the embrace. He let himself drown in the safety and comfort Gabe provided him, and for a moment, he felt as if the gaping hole in their relationship had started to close up.

His brother was a protector, something he had long forgotten; he knew what he was doing.

“Gabriel-“

“Oh my God! You haven’t changed one bit. She’ll be fine - I promise, I’ll take care of her,” his brother huffed.

“No! I...was going to say thank you. Thanks for this.” Cas chuckled and pulled away. He was going to do it. He was going to go after his son. He trusted his brother enough to hold the fort here. He had to. Gabe seemed a little stunned by his response, unsure of what to say.

“Don’t get mushy on me now, Cas. C’mon, Jack needs you.” Gabriel stood up and helped him onto his feet as well. He watched him snatch the discarded piece of paper from the floor and hastily try to shove it into his arms along with his car keys. Cas fumbled around with it instead and nearly dropped it on the floor again, glaring at his brother as he heard him hold in a snicker. “Come on, quit dawdling already, you’re like a grandpa,” Gabriel complained as he ushered him to the door.

He opened the door, about to step out, before turning around. He could still see Kaia’s hair peeking out from behind the couch arm. “Are you sure she’ll be okay?”

The shorter male lifted up his hand and placed the other over his heart, like he was about to take a pledge. “I, Gabriel, solemnly swear to take care and look after Kaia, so Cassie can shut his cakehole and quit worrying already. There, happy?” Cas rolled his eyes at the snarky reply and only nodded. “For real though, Honeybee, go save your kid. I’ll look after mine.”

“Are you ever going to drop that nickname?”

“My dearest baby brother… I’m taking that nickname to the grave.” Gabe winked and Castiel fought back a groan. He hated him so much, but at the same time, he loved him a little bit more. He sent Gabe a little wave before turning around and hurrying down the driveway. The comfort and warmth he felt faded away as he walked farther, and Cas was suddenly acutely aware of just how alone he was now. Not wanting to focus on the hollow pit that was growing in his gut, he slid his fingers over the crumpled piece of paper that he had desperately tried to store. He pulled it out, unrolling the creased corners as he digested the information scattered on its surface. Trying to read the handwriting was a little difficult because of how quickly the words were scrawled on during Kaia’s dangerous endeavor. He swallowed back the coldness that settled in his throat from the memories of her before they could try swallow him whole instead. He squinted.

A town. Not just any town; it was a town they’d stayed in recently during a case. Cas shoved the piece of paper back into his pockets. A feeling of dread and uneasiness made his stomach sink. Have those men been following them? If so, for how long? He shuddered at the thought of the period of time they could’ve been following them without being noticed - how long they’ve been hidden in the trees, watching them with those predatory, smoldering eyes, just waiting for the perfect time to strike and tear their claws into them like they were defenseless pieces of prey.

His footsteps became louder - no, angrier. He stormed towards the car, climbing inside and shoving Gabe’s keys into the ignition. Whenever he felt slightly comforted or assured, reality seemed to always shoot those feelings down within the blink of an eye. He was going to teach those sons of bitches a lesson, no matter what they are. Stop these bad feelings from invading his world again and turning it to shit. For Jack, for Kaia, and for himself.

  


 

 

Castiel stood in front of the rusty warehouse, his figure stock still, his eyes inspecting every intricate detail of the metallic exterior. This is where those men had been reportedly staying. He would admit that he felt a little intimidated. He wasn’t sure what he was going to find in the warehouse, nor was he sure if it was even remotely safe - but what else could he do? He just had to trust the word of the townsfolk. Out of the blue, an aggressive gust of wind slammed into his frame, as if urging him to move. With slow, unwavering steps, he trudged towards the building. His icy cold gaze remained locked onto the door until he finally reached it. As his hands slid over the grimy handle, a certain electricity that surged through him caused him to fight the urge to slam it open and to run into the place, guns blazing. It would be reckless, but that didn’t mean Castiel was any less tempted by the idea. The door groaned as its frame scraped across the concrete floor. He swore the grating noise would tear open his ear drums as he grimaced.

Through the billowing dust, it was dark. The inky black shadows were swallowing up every object in its path - twisting and sliding between every little hole, space, and crack in the walls, until no trace of light could be found. Cas swallowed at the way it beckoned at him and made his way forwards. His fingers automatically felt around his hip for his gun, and he was confused by the emptiness, until he recalled that it was still in the house - untouched and unmoved. ‘Shit.’ He realized that his footsteps were alarmingly loud in contrast to the screaming silence of the warehouse. The walls were so thin that he could hear the wind wheeze and rasp outside.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

The sound of the water droplets splattering against the floor could be heard faintly from somewhere; but where, exactly? Castiel didn’t know. He felt alone, but at the same time, beyond it. Was that really a good feeling? In response to his silent question, he bent over and reached to grab the silver knife that was tucked into his leg holster. ‘Thank God I kept this.’ There were dark shapes dancing all around the room as he proceeded further, but working out which were real and which were just his mind playing tricks on him was the true challenge. The structure creaked alarmingly as the wind slowly picked up. If he wasn’t killed by the second person in the room, then he was sure that the unstable beams of the warehouse would be the ones to do it. He needed to be cautious of that.

“Jack?” he called out to the silence. There was no response. His nerves were kicking in, and for a minute, he was debating on whether it was a smart idea to be announcing his presence in this place, if he should leave or not. But Cas wasn’t a coward. His son needed him, and if he was somewhere in this sinister structure, then he’d search high and low until he found him. He wouldn’t let himself be scared off. “Jack, if you can hear me, please say something!” he yelled a bit louder, anxiously biting his lower lip as he waited for a response.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Cas sighed and decided to shuffle through his pockets for his phone. Maybe a little light will help. The wind continued to whistle outside – whistling on and on - and the noise was beginning to get on his nerves. ‘Shut. Up.’ He wished _all_ of it would shut up. The only noise he wanted to hear right now was the sound of his son’s voice - nothing else. The light from the screen was harsh as it flashed on and stung his eyes. He cursed beneath his breath and squinted while he slid his finger across the lock-screen and searched for the torch button. As he tapped around, everything in that moment was quiet, so quiet that he could hear even the littlest of noises, which didn’t help his case any further.

The water oozing onto the floor, the wind roaring ever so mightily, the shuffling from something behind him, the creaking of the tarnished beams like some unknown weight was on it - wait. A phantom coldness prickled his skin and made all the hairs on his neck stand on edge. His heartbeat was booming in his ears, and there was an uncomfortable, unsettling feeling running down his back along with his sweat.

‘Fucking move!’

In a split second, Cas tumbled to the side and barely dodged something that flashed by in the corner of his eye. His phone clattered against the floor, and he clutched his silver knife tightly in his hands. The sound of the wind blasted in his ears, and suddenly, his breath hitched. What was going to come? A fist? A knife? His eyes darted around the darkness for a sign of something - no, someone. The faint outline of a silhouette was barely visible, but just enough so that he could make out a figure. Before he could get a better look, an invisible force struck him and slammed him into the dampened ground. Castiel clutched his stomach from the impact and gasped for air. He knew that force; he’d been hit by it before. It was them. It was Dean. A rush of adrenaline flooded his mind and made the world spin. Everything was churning; the floor was rising and falling as if it was a wave crashing against sand. He staggered onto his feet and stumbled to the side, barely holding his balance. ‘Fuck this guy.’ If Dean was here, then so was Jack, and Castiel was more than determined to find him with that newfound realization in his mind. He coiled up, more confident this time, ready to fight.

But before he could pounce on the threat, an invisible hand suddenly clasped around his neck, and the oxygen was unexpectedly cut off from the rest of his body. He clawed around and threw his legs about, but felt nothing except for the cold and empty air. His vision was going blurry, and his mind was starting to spin like a playground roundabout. With every passing second, he was careening closer and closer towards the light at the end of the tunnel, and every cell in his body was going into panic mode. How unceremonious was this? Despite his haziness, alarm bells were still going off in his head like police sirens. He had to do something. He had to do something that was worth it before he went down. ‘The knife.’ Trembling, he lifted his arm weakly and aimed the knife towards the hazy figure in front of him. His eyelids were growing heavier and heavier until they were the weight of boulders - he didn’t have much time - and Cas, with all his might, launched the silver knife towards Dean.

A sudden gasp and the sound of scuffling followed. Whatever was suffocating him hesitated due to the result of the action and disappeared as quickly as it came. Castiel doubled over, collapsing to his knees, and took a sharp inhale. He winced at the stinging pain in his throat and coughed violently until he threw up air. While his throat unwound, he waited to hear the sound of a body falling, or something hitting the ground, but nothing followed. Had he missed? It took him a good amount of energy to painstakingly lift his head. The man was still on his feet, unaffected by the knife that was thrust deep into his chest. No. He couldn’t have. ‘Then why didn’t he die? What was he?’ Cas was getting really pissed off by this mystery man, who stormed over towards his bent over body. The sound of the knife clattering on the ground joined that of his footsteps.

Dean slid his fingers through his tattered, messy black locks and gripped them harshly. Cas hissed at the pain and reached to dig his fingers into the skin of the man’s wrist.

“You’re really a pain in my ass,” the man grumbled in a low voice.

Castiel bit back a smile at Dean’s obvious annoyance and opened his mouth to retort, but was met by a stabbing pain in his throat. Despite it, he chuckled hoarsely. “B-Bite me, big boy.” Man, this is why he stopped hanging out with Gabriel.

He could hear the taller man take in a frustrated inhale at Cas’ response. He braced himself for a punch in the face, but it never came. Instead, he felt Dean shove him backwards and watched the mysterious man press his palm against his own head tightly as if he were hearing something that Cas couldn’t. ‘Like Kaia. Huh.’

That didn’t matter though; whatever porn the guy was channelling in his head, he had to be ready for another attack. He may not know what he was, but he wasn’t going to stop fighting for Jack until his last breath. He’ll find a way to kill him - eventually. Why stop there? He raised his fists and dipped his knees a little, getting ready to launch himself at the taller man in front of him while he was unsuspecting… That is, until Dean suddenly stood bowstring straight and turned to look directly at him.

“Calm down, asshat,” Dean retorted with a scowl, and Cas swore he heard him mutter something under his breath. “I ain’t going to kill you. Your son is…” There was hesitation in his voice, as if whatever he was about to say next he really didn’t want to say. The gears in his mind seemed to be turning again before he spoke. “He’s alive okay? I’ll take you to him.”

That threw him off his course. ‘What the fuck.’ That was the first thing that ran through Cas’ mind. This man, the man that stalked them for who knows how long, broke into their house, kidnapped Jack, choked him twice, and nearly killed him just now, was offering to take him to his son.

This had to be a trap. Cas wasn’t going to fall for it.

“Fuck off,” the shorter male spat.

He could see Dean’s frame tense up and shake in rage, probably from his lack of cooperation, before sinking back into a disturbingly relaxed posture. “Are you always such a stick in the mud?” Dean jabbed, and Cas’ eye twitched. “I’m offering to take you to your _son_ , dumbass. Are you coming or not?”

“How do I know this isn’t a trap?” he questioned.

“You don’t.”

Castiel bit his lip and tightened his fists at his response. This was a trap. He was so sure of it.

“…Fine,” he muttered. Dean, seemingly pleased with his answer, turned his back to him and gestured for him to follow. Little did Dean know, Cas wasn’t going to fall for his bullshit ploy.

They were shuffling through a narrow hallway whose walls were towering with teetering, messy stacks of scrap metal, moving farther and farther into the warehouse than he would’ve expected. He was silent behind him, his predatory eyes stalking Dean’s wicked figure as they walked. With every step, he subtly creeped closer and closer to the man until he was merely centimeters away - virtually in arm’s reach. He could strike at any moment now. As Cas slowly built up the energy to attack him, he suddenly felt the ground fly dangerously closer to his face and let out a yelp. He had, in fact, slipped on a piece of metal he didn’t see lying on the ground which had caused him to stumble forward. The sound of the dastardly thing clanging against the shelves of metal fragments engulfed the room and became a vacuum for all other sounds. Cas’ heart jumped, sucking in a harsh breath as he froze.

Without turning around, the taller man took the opportunity to tease him for his clumsiness. “I thought you’d be a lot more careful than that.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at his comment, innards boiling. “Yeah.” ‘I’ll show you _careful_ , dickface.’ He slowly and soundlessly bent down to grab whatever metal thing he tripped over (curse the darn thing). ‘I’m going to beat both of your faces in - just you wait.’ He was careful not to make a sound as he clutched the piece of iron in his hands, marching closer to Dean. The threat still hasn’t seemed to suspect a thing; It was now, or never. If he could knock him out and find a way to restrain him, maybe he could interrogate him for Jack’s _real_ location. Use whatever tools he needed, since nothing seems to be able to kill him yet. It’s better than following him any further and risk winding up dead in a ditch.

His breathing became shallower as he grew increasingly nervous. He couldn’t mess this up - Jack’s life, as well as his, depended on this.

‘3… 2… 1...’ Castiel hoisted the iron bar above his head and swung down on the creature with all his might.

 

 

 

 

A painful groan fell from his lips. He rolled over slightly and whined at the aching pain that spiked through every nerve in his system. His mind was a mess; it was like someone drilled a speaker into his brain and was blasting O Fortuna at the highest volume possible. It was hard to think clearly. He blinked profusely. Huh. Was he in a room? It was too dark to really make sense of the details, but he couldn’t mistake the four bare walls that boxed him in. He decided to use his hands as eyes. His arms floundered about, searching the ground for something that would give him a clue as to where he was.

“Dad?” a muffled voice resounded from the very corner the room. His hands paused. Cas couldn’t tell if it was just his mind playing tricks on him, though. After all, he could practically hear everything right now, and it was driving him nuts. He lifted himself onto his knees and clutched his head, the painful throbbing having only gotten worse. It took him a second to realise that something warm was seeping into his hand. Deliriously, he pulled his hand away and brought his stained fingers towards his mouth. As his tongue slid over the pads, the familiar taste of iron flooded his senses; the strength of its tang seemed to hammer him back to reality, and he quickly spat out the foul liquid. He was bleeding? Since when? He wasn’t even sure where he was. No matter how hard he tried to peer into the darkness, he couldn’t see anything. Nothing. Just pitch black. “Dad, is that you?” the same voice called out again.

The crispiness; the genuine fear in it - Cas wasn’t sure it was just in his head this time. Upon hearing the voice, pieces fell into place, and his memories came crashing into him like a big, yellow school bus.

“Jack!”

 _It had all happened so quickly; the iron bar had barely brushed across a strand of Dean’s hair before the figure had whirled around. His body moved like lightning, as if he knew all along that Cas was going to stab him in the back. Before another thought could’ve cross his mind, the iron bar had been wrenched from his hands within the blink of an eye, and he had been tackled to the ground._ The last thing he recalled was Dean’s fist flying towards his face, and everything from then on was static.

There was a scuffle of feet as a shape bolted through the darkness towards him, and Cas stumbled slightly as he was pulled into a crushing hug. Was it really him? He clutched the thing close to his chest, automatically laying kisses across the top of his tousled hair, burying his nose in it. Past the smell of mud and sweat, the familiar scent of evergreen made his eyes water. Whatever he was clutching onto for dear life was Jack all right. It was his boy. He was okay!

“Jack, thank God you’re safe…” he muttered. He held him tighter, fearing that he would lose him again if he ever let go. The same warm feeling started to bloom inside his chest again.

But the other’s body was still cold and quivering. “I-I thought they hurt you… They said they were going to if I didn’t listen to them,” Jack bawled deep in the folds of his shirt. The boy was shaking harder than an unstable bridge during an earthquake. With every sob and whimper that ripped out of Jack’s mouth, Cas could feel another piece of his heart chip away until it was strewn all over with massive, ugly cracks. But at least it hasn’t shattered completely. He rubbed his back comfortingly and whispered soft reassurances into his ear, repeatedly saying that he was okay. Those reassurances were lies, though - all of them. In fact, he was far from okay. His body had been tossed around like a rag doll one too many times already, and he wouldn’t be surprised if his body was already as stained in purple as Violet Beauregarde.

Jack didn’t need to know that, though. If his little lies could help calm him down, then he’d sprinkle as many of them on him as he can until his boy’s tears had dried.

“I’m okay, son… Look, I’m here, aren’t I? I’m more concerned about you, Jack…” He pulled away and ever so lightly cupped his cheeks like he was a teacup made of porcelain. He tried to search for and make out any marks or bruises dotting his face, but his efforts were futile. He could barely see his own hands in the dark, never mind any injuries Jack might have sustained. It was stupid of him to do it in the first place, but he supposed that he just really needed some consolation that his little boy wasn’t harmed. Words came tumbling out of his mouth as he babbled. “I’m sorry… I should’ve done better. I failed you. You could’ve gotten seriously injured, and I-“

“Dad, stop. It’s not your fault.” Jack sniffled. “I’m just… so happy to see you…”

Cas could hear the fragility in his voice and his efforts to smile, feeling all his walls crumble simultaneously. It made a miserable sound. ‘I’ll do better, Jack. I swear, I’ll protect you from here on out.’ He was going to try harder to preserve that smile – that small but precious smile - and keep it as real as it can be.

“Look, I hate to break up this ‘lovely’ family reunion, but we need to talk,” a gruff voice rumbled from the empty void surrounding them.

His son flinched at the sound that he’s seemed to have gotten so used to, and Cas pulled him close again, holding him protectively as his eyes darted around the darkness. As he expected, it was no use; he couldn’t see a damn thing, even though he really wished he did right now.

But he knew that voice. That incredibly annoying and deep voice.

“ _Dean._ ” He spat out the name like it was poison in his mouth.

The hidden being only chuckled, apparently amused with his reaction. “Yeah, that’s my name. Don’t wear it out.” His tone became laced with irritation. “Seriously though, could you drop the attitude? We just want to talk.”

“You knocked me out, and you expect me to drop the attitude?” Cas bit back through his teeth, a hint of a growl in his voice.

“Because you tried to knock _me_ out!” Dean barked loudly.

“ _Dean_.”

The humans jumped when another man’s voice broke through. There was a fourth person in the room - the giant that held Jack captive while Dean attacked him earlier. Moose-man. Said man was scolding at Dean, and he finally quietened down. As if on cue, all at once, the room lit up. White light melted across the dirty, concrete floor and climbed the walls of the compact room. Cas squinted at the sudden shift in luminosity. As his eyes adjusted, he could see the source of the voices more clearly now, who were standing in front of them with their eyes burning into the depths of his soul. He shuddered under their gaze. The way they looked at them - there was something hollow about it. Something unnatural. Moose-man’s expression was softer, though as he gasped. “Dean, why is he bleeding?”

“ _He tried to knock me out!”_ Dean cried again in frustration, and Moose-man only sighed in disappointment. Cas’ eyes had followed the bleeding light to its origin and had to do a double take when he saw it was coming from the giant’s hand. _Directly_ from the giant’s hand. Just like how it was with Dean back at the house.

“Never the matter…” The tall man returned his attention to them. “Just hear us out… please?” There was a short pause. Moose-man was waiting for a response, a witty comeback or a simple ‘no’, but Cas remained silent. A look of relief flashed within the giant’s eyes at his reaction before he continued, “We know you may be… displeased with your current situation, but we promise we had a reason for taking your son.”

‘This should be good,’ Cas thought with an eye roll.

“He,” Moose-man coughed, “ is the vessel of Lucifer.”

‘What?’ Cas’ eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, mind going blank from shock. Whatever he was expecting them to say, it definitely wasn’t _that_. He took a breath, trying to decipher his words. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he decided how exactly to respond to that. “What the hell are you on about?” he quizzed. Dean went to say something but was stopped in his tracks by the giant’s shoe that came slamming down onto the shorter man’s foot. Dean grunted.

Moose-man tried to maintain his pleasant façade. “It may be difficult to understand, but I’m Sam, and I’m sure you’ve met Dean.” Cas’ eyebrows furrowed.

“We’re angels.”

Cas’ mind was not blank anymore, that’s for sure - it was as packed with confusion as a town centre full of tourists that had just arrived for the first time. ‘Angels? Lucifer?’ Everything felt like a fever dream. Vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters; all of that he could get behind, but Cas was never a religious person. That was his dad. He never believed in angels and God, or any of that biblical nonsense.

All he could do was laugh. “Are you - you’re shitting me right now, aren’t you? _Angels?_ Really? You mean those happy little things that sit on clouds with harps and halos? And Lucifer - like Lucifer as in Satan?” the black haired male blurted out with disbelief. “ _He_ isn’t real-“

“Lucifer is real. He’s _so_ real that in a few months from now, he’s going to descend onto this world and turn this planet - no, the universe - into ashes-“

“And he’s going to use your son to do it,” Dean cut in.

He didn’t understand why, and he still didn’t believe all of this poppycock, but the thought of Jack being in danger made him clutch him even closer anyways. “Jack’s innocent! He’s just a kid and… what were you going to do? Kill him?” Something in Sam’s eyes darkened at his question. A bitter coldness washed over those oaky brown orbs, and Cas was so acutely aware of just how empty they were. It was like staring into a gnarly, dead, and hollowed out log - nothing through its ends. Only a hardened shell.

“Yes,” Sam affirmed, and Cas hadn’t felt such an urge to get as far away from the two crazy men (or _angels_ , whatever) as possible in a long time. He was already shifting them back, until Sam’s open hand shot forward. “Not anymore though; we promise. We want your help.”

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows in uncertainty and opened his mouth to comment when Dean interrupted him. Apparently he couldn’t stand being quiet for too long with the way he slightly bounced on his heels.

“Look, we’re not asking you to trust us because we sure as hell don’t trust you, but this is _Lucifer_ . Whatever doubts you might have, whatever you’ve been taught while growing up, _we’re_ real, and so is Lucifer,” the blonde man snapped. “You can say no, keep thinking we’re crazy, and leave this building - but Lucifer is still going to drop his ass down here no matter what. With no one standing in his way, we’re all dead. _Including_ your son. Do you really want to risk that?”

As much as Cas despised him, he had a point. If their story was even a little bit true, Jack could die. Of course, he didn’t trust the men one bit, and he was very speculative of their story; but even if he did tell them to fuck off and then leave with Jack, their words would be resonating in his mind for weeks on end, gnawing away at him, until Lucifer finally made his supposed-descent. He couldn’t imagine the unending guilt he would feel for not doing anything about it at that point before his allegedly horrible end. Did he really have a choice in the matter, then?

“And if we wanted you dead, your body would already be shoved into the dumpster outside. I didn’t have to carry your heavy ass all the way here,” Dean added on.

Cas glowered from his snarky comment. He fought the urge to tackle the man to the ground and make him regret letting those words ever leave his mouth.

“Give me proof.”

“What?” the two men (angels?) exclaimed at once.

“Give me proof that you’re angels, and maybe I’ll consider helping you,” he replied.

He felt Jack tense. “Dad, no; It’s too dangerous-“

“Trust me, son. It’s okay. I’ll protect you, okay?” He turned back to the others. “Proof, or we’re leaving here, and you can go find that help somewhere else,” he demanded. He waited for a response, the two men sharing glances at each other like they were having a silent conversation neither him nor Jack could hear.

“Our true forms are too dangerous to show you, but there is something I can do that might make you believe us,” Sam explained.

“Go on,” Castiel urged, and on cue, the brightness in the room started to intensify. It was almost as intense as the light that engulfed the house when they first ran into Sam and Dean; only this one was a little dimmer. Cas slapped his hand over his eyes nonetheless and peered at Sam through the little space between his fingers.

The hollow void that was once in Sam’s eyes had become filled with light; pure, white light. The glow emanating from him was warm… almost welcoming, in a messed up, twisted way. It was a warmth you’d get from a fireplace on a harsh winter’s night. A comforting thing. What was less comforting was the shadow that was casted behind Sam. He wasn’t sure where it came from, what made it, or why it was there, but he could vaguely make out the shape of wings. It only grew more visible in size and majesty as the white light grew with it, and Cas only grew more intimidated by its grandeur. He felt Jack’s hand squeeze tighter on his arm.

There were no halos - there was literally nothing else he could really see except white - but the wings’ shadows were enough to open his eyes (metaphorically) and open his mind. ‘Oh God, they _are_ real. Angels are real.’ His mind was reeling; he’d never seen such a beautiful but dangerous thing, and he tried tremendously to hide his awe. “Alright. Okay, you can turn it off now,” he groaned. It admittedly was getting to the point where he couldn’t even look at the two men anymore, never mind inspect the shadow behind Sam. The light dissipated on command, leaving only a gentle glow from Sam’s hand to fight the dimness of the room away. Cas kind of missed the fireplace warmth.

“That enough proof?” Dean goaded.

He lowered his hand and nodded. He checked on Jack, who, unlike him, had made no effort to hide his shock from the event that just took place in front of their eyes. He patted his head, letting the new information finally sink in. There was only one question eating away at his mind now. “Why didn’t you do it?” He turned to Dean, and the blonde man seemed surprised at his question.

Cas expected to get an answer. Dean averted his gaze, a glint of grief passing in his eyes. “You got your damn proof,” he muttered instead. “Are you going to help or not?”

Castiel, who thought to brush the evasion off for now, looked down at his son and lightly patted the kid’s head again. ‘For Jack.’ “Alright, we’ll help,” he declared. If angels were real, than maybe Lucifer was not such a crazy idea.

Something in Sam lit up at that, because he was beaming like the sun. His eyes were a little less hollow. “Great! That’s great. So it’s a deal, right? We promise not to touch Jack as long as you work with us to defeat Lucifer.” How lightly and nonchalantly he said it, though. That was disconcerting. Sam approached him and held out his pinky. Cas didn’t hesitate to express his confusion, a look of pure perplexity painting itself on his face. “What? This is what humans do when they make an unbreakable promise, right? Aren’t you gonna… y’know…” the angel prompted him to do the same.

Castiel sighed. He thought it was slightly childish, but he still lifted his pinky finger and wrapped it around Sam’s. “I promise to help you defeat Lucifer as long as you don’t hurt my son,” he rolled out. “You have to explain everything, though. Tell us what we have to do.” He could see triumph flood Sam’s eyes as he nodded, and for a minute, those hollow eyes seemed almost alive. But Dean’s, though, those grassy green jewels, were still as empty and dull as the warehouse itself. The man continued to stand back and stare, keeping his distance.

“Alright, let’s blow this joint,” Dean sighed and turned to leave. Cas pulled his pinky away from Sam’s.

“Dad…” Jack spoke up quietly, an undertone of uncertainty and fear lacing his voice when the two started to accompany the angels.

“Shh… It’s okay, Jack. Nothing will happen to you,” he started again, trailing off and glancing up at the angels who were now conversing privately with one another up front. His own eyes darkened. “I swear on my life.”


	3. Mamma Mia!

_"Look at me now, will I ever learn?_

_I don't know how but I suddenly lose control_

_There's a fire within my soul._ _"_

-✞-✞-✞-

 

Castiel sighed and let his body relax in the tub. He couldn’t begin to explain how much he needed a bath after spending nearly a month with two celestial light bulbs. His felt his muscles dissolve and become one with the warm water. He sunk further and further into its depths until his nose hovered merely inches above the surface, letting the liquid wash over, and over, and over as if it were cleansing his mind and soul. The emanating steam eased his worries as he slowly shut his eyes, embracing it and putting down his shield and sword. Putting them down. After the chaotic weeks he’s had to suffer, everything - the peace, the serenity - felt perfect. It was quiet at last, and Cas was going to enjoy every minute of this fleeting tranquility-

“Castiel.”

A familiar voice came from beside the bathtub. Cas’ eyes snapped open, heart leaping in his throat. He almost slipped and submerged himself completely underwater before he immediately shot up, and, on instinct, he pulled his knees close to his chest to hide his junk. Puddles had formed on the floor from his struggle, but the intruder stayed unmoving. A rosy red blush blossomed in Cas’ cheeks, and the gentle scarlet bled onto his ears and all the way down to his neck.

“DEAN!” Cas screamed, glaring at the man who was hovering, fully clothed, in incredibly close proximity to himself, who was very, very _un_ clothed. “Dean, we talked about this!” His mind was yelling for him to grab a towel to cover himself, but that would mean getting up. And if he stood up right now, then… Well. His face felt so hot that it could give the sun a run for its money. The droplets that clung to his skin seemed to fail at cooling him down. Dean took a minute to silently stare at him with a curious expression that just made Cas even more flustered. He probably looked like a sitting, talking tomato right now - a _naked_ tomato, by the way - and the realisation wasn’t comforting one bit. In fact, he felt worse. “Just… What do you want?” he huffed quietly, embarrassment oozing from his voice as he hugged his legs.

“Your brother, Gabriel, is at the door. I just thought you’d like to know,” Dean responded nonchalantly, acting as if Cas wasn’t stark naked in front of him right now or like it shouldn’t’ve been a bother. The man wore a scarily neutral face that unsettled him, and it took all his might not to freak out even more and kick the man out of the bathroom.

His fingers clutched the lip of the bathtub. “Right. Right. Gabriel. And you couldn’t have told me this from – oh I don’t know – _outside_ the door?” he hissed, glowering at the clueless angel through the loose strands of his wet hair. He wasn’t sure what happened, what he was expecting, or what Dean was thinking, but strangely, the man broke out into a small smirk upon realising his discomfort and merely shrugged.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d hear me.” Out went the neutral tone and in with an unnaturally playful teasing that just ticked him off even more. “I’m sorry, does this bother you?”

Cas’ face twisted into a deep scowl. Oh, he was going to give him a piece of how ‘bothered’ he really was alright. He just...really didn’t have the energy to do it right now, especially in such a vulnerable state. He’d become more annoyingly exhausted than anything else ever since the moment Dean ripped him out of his reverie. “Dick-ass,” he grumbled and rubbed his face, a long, exasperated sigh falling from his lips. “I’m done anyway. I’m gonna come out now,” Castiel stated, returning his gaze back to Dean and raising his eyebrows. What he would’ve expected was the man to get out at this point. That was rational.

He waited…

And waited some more….

But… the man didn’t budge. He was as still as a statue, and Cas awkwardly swallowed the tiny lump building in his throat as Dean’s eyes bore into his own. “Uh.” He didn’t really know what else to do - Look away? The other’s gaze was extremely magnetic, so he couldn’t seem to be able to do it. The alluring rhythm of the flickers of green and amber that danced around the jewels of the angel’s eyes was absolutely mesmerising - that much he’ll profess. Castiel’s tongue absently and nervously slid out of his mouth to lick at his chapped lips. For a moment, he thought Dean’s eyes had flickered down to follow the movement, but it happened so fast that he brushed it off as his mind playing tricks on him. They continued to hold each other’s gazes in an unspoken staring contest for what felt like centuries. After a while, he found himself growing more and more unnerved under his intense look and wanted nothing more than to pick him up and chuck him out of the room. Cas really needed to snap out of it. The steam must be getting to his brain. He tried to nudge his head towards the door so Dean would finally get the message, but no amount of hinting or nudging got through to him. It was like throwing crumpled up notes at a brick wall; they just kept bouncing back and slamming right into his face.

In the end, he grew weary and broke their prolonged ogling, or whatever that was. “Dean,” he finally said; it was the first word shared between the two after a lifetime of drowning in each other’s eyes. He didn’t know if that should’ve made him more uncomfortable or not.

The angel perked up after hearing his name and blinked. Cas could’ve have sworn that he appeared a little bewildered by what just ensued too. “Yes?” the being asked inquisitively.

“Get out, or I’m going to throw the shampoo bottle at you,” Cas warned, and Dean’s lips formed the shape of an ‘O’ as he nodded in acknowledgment. He seemed to finally get it, thank God.

“Of course, your Majesty.” He mocked a smile and even had the nerve to throw in a bow. He looked to have composed himself and regained his cockiness. ‘Angels are good and holy, my ass.’ It was like Dean was hell-bent on pissing him off every chance he got.

The door clicked shut once Dean had hauled himself out, and Cas slumped against the bathtub, sighing deeply. ‘So much for peace and tranquillity,’ he thought bitterly, running a hand through his dampened hair. He could already feel some locks beginning to dry off. Maybe he could try having another bath later, but only after nailing an ‘Angels Stay Out’ sign to the door, so Dean can’t come bursting through again… but that being said, he didn’t seem like the type to listen to rules in the first place.

 

 

 

 

Castiel procured his baby blue towel and threw it around his shoulders. Annoyed, he swung the door open and glared at his damn older brother for choosing to pop round when he did.

“Baby bro! What were you doin’ in there? Jackin’ off?” Gabriel chimed, the biggest grin having formed on his face that made Cas’ eye twitch.

“I hate you,” he muttered.

“You love me, really.” His brother chuckled and patted the top of his head before brushing past him to enter the house. Cas stood in the doorway, alone for a minute, and let the chilly breeze dry off the condensed steam that was bleeding out of his ears. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the smell of the earth. It’s a wonder he hadn’t driven his car into the lake yet; that fate seemed more merciful than having to put up with two stuck-up angels and an older brother who wouldn’t stop calling. The amount of time he had remained there caused a person riding past on their bike to stare at him like he’d grown two heads. ‘O almighty God in the sky, have mercy on me because I’m about to smack one of your kids.’ Cas, fueled with purpose, walked back into the house and slammed the door shut behind him. It _was_ pretty cold outside. As it always seemed to be.

“Cassie, I’m gonna be real with you. You look like shit,” the brunet commented.

“Thank you for the observation, Gabriel; I hadn’t noticed,” he acknowledged sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He slumped onto the couch, and his brother followed.

“Jack hit that phase again?”

“Worse. It’s like I’ve got three kids in the house now. Dean has no concept of privacy. _At all_ . He just pops in when he wants to, no thought that I could be busy, and doesn’t pop out unless I actually tell him. You’d think that Jesus ‘No sex before marriage!’ Christ would’ve taught them that, hey, maybe humans don’t like it when you burst into the room while they’re naked. _Naked_ , Gabriel! I swear, I was expecting them to be intelligent, dangerous beings, not a fucking nuisance!” Cas rambled, pulling a cushion over his face to muffle his irritated groan. The older man smacked his lips awkwardly and nodded at his rant.

“Have you tried telling him to stop?”

“I do, but he has the memory of a goldfish. I’m at my wit’s end, brother. I swear, Dean is just-“

As if on cue, the topic at hand waltzed into the room looking like he just got back from a vacation in Hawaii, grin slapped on his face and all. “I’m a what?” Dean plopped onto the spot next to him. “Talking about me, Castiel? I’m flattered.” His cheeky grin only grew until it reached the ends of his face. Mischief swarmed his leafy green eyes, and the buzzing in Cas’ head magnified until he snapped, throwing the cushion into Dean’s face. The tired man let out a long, drawn out exhale and scowled at his brother when he noticed him snickering. Screw him for not helping him get out of this situation.

The older one held out his hand for the angel to shake it. “So you must be the famous Dean,” he presumed. The angel only stared at his hand, though, inspecting it in bewilderment and curiosity. Instead of shaking it, Dean wrapped his pinky around Gabe’s and jiggled it. Cas chortled and covered his mouth. The glare Dean sent him immediately afterwards could’ve burned a hole through the centre of the Earth. Gabe laughed awkwardly. “Well, that’s certainly… new.”

Castiel tried to calm himself. “Anyway, what did you need Gabriel?” he inquired, swiftly changing the subject.

“Can’t I visit my brother purely because I care?” The younger sibling rose an eyebrow at his question, which only earned him a roll of the eyes in return. “Fine! Fine. There’s this case that’s got my brain a lil’...scrambled,” he coughed, wringing his hands, “and I figured you could...lend a hand.” Castiel’s eyes widened a bit at this. His brother hadn’t asked him for help on a case in a while - actually, ever. The statement left him stunned.

“My help… on a _case?_ I… er... Okay,” he stammered.

Gabriel smacked his lips. “Great! Thanks, Cas. Knew I could count on you. It’s a bit wacky, so hold onto your gonads, but basically…” He paused to make sure the other two men in the room were listening. “Demonic sacrifices.”

“Demonic sacrifices? Gabe, Michael had us deal with that kind of stuff since we could walk; that’s not at all ‘wacky’,” Cas pointed out, using air quotes for exaggeration. He didn’t know why this was such a big deal.

Gabriel didn’t waste any time to continue his explanation, though. “No, no. Cas, these are worse. They’re _child_ sacrifices.” Oh God. “Bodies have turned up on makeshift altars and ritualistic setups. I tried to figure out what type of demon it could be, but I turned up with zilch. None of the vics are linked. No motivation or patterns. They’re just… kids.” Gabriel’s voice softened towards the end, heartache and sorrow washing over his brother’s face.

Cas felt like his heart had stopped. He’s dealt with the death of adults all the time, but… children? “How many?” he uttered, his voice barely breaking past a whisper.

“I don’t-“

“How many, Gabe?” he pleaded.

“…Three,” his brother whispered solemnly, his voice becoming as fragile as glass. “I need your help, brother. I wouldn’t have called otherwise.”

“You said they’re ritualistic right?” Dean cut in, seemingly curious about the case. “And you’re sure the guy behind this is only going after kids?”

Gabriel sighed. “If other bodies turned up, I would’ve told you.” Cas rubbed the bridge of his nose and attempted to digest the bitter information his brother had fed him, but it was nearly impossible. He hated these types of cases – cases that involved kids that did absolutely nothing to deserve it. Kids who’d barely lived long enough to see the sun shine throughout a lifetime.

“I’m coming with you guys.” Dean declared, and Cas’ head whipped around to face him.

‘No. No way.’

“No,” he bit out verbally. “There’s no way you’re coming with me on this case.”

“You don’t understand, Cas. This could be related to Lucifer-“

“It’s _Castiel_. And if it is, then I’ll handle it myself. I’m not bringing you on a case; you’ll just slow me down.” He started standing up to go pack his things when Dean snatched arm, locking him in place. Cas opened his mouth to tell him to let go but screwed it shut again when he noticed the sincerity and desperation swimming in his eyes.

“Castiel, please.” the man whispered.

It was a genuine plea - not a mocking comment or a tease. A plea. From Dean. He tried to will himself to say no, but every time his mouth opened, it slammed shut again. Every fiber in his gut was screaming for him to refuse. Curse his soft and quiet heart - this was going to get him killed for sure.

“Fine,” he begrudgingly grumbled, pulling his arm away from Dean’s hand. The angel’s face twisted slightly into what he assumed was that of joy. He was about to say something when Cas cut him off. “Just hurry and go pack. We need to leave as soon as we can. Where’s Sam?” Now that he really thought about it, he hadn’t seen the giant around lately, and it was concerning him. He looked around as if he’d spot the tall man hiding in the corner or something, but his efforts were futile. Sam had disappeared. Poof. Just like that.

“Sam? Oh, right. He went to get some books; said he’ll be back around any time now,” answered Dean as he stood up and strode to the door. “He’ll be here, so tell your nerves to cool off, yeah?” And with that, the sincerity disappeared as fast as it came. Douche-Dean was back. “And what is it that humans say? ‘If you keep stressing so much, you’re going to get grey hairs…’ But, I guess in your case, _more_ grey hairs.” The blonde man grinned slyly and rapidly left the room, dodging another cushion that Cas had launched at him by an inch. He wished he had his gun with him so he could shoot him in the face. It probably wouldn’t kill him, but it’d make Cas feel a whole lot better. A frustrated groan fell from his mouth and he dropped himself back onto the couch, sulking. ‘I hate him. I absolutely despise him.’

He scratched his head, feeling a little insecure as the remark managed to sink in. “…Do I really have grey hairs?” he blurted out.

Gabriel set a hand on his shoulder and chuckled. “Brother… you’re hopeless.”

The sound of fluttering and a gentle ‘whoosh’ invaded the room, followed by a voice not soon after. Both men turned towards the source of the sound.

“Hey, I’m back!” Sam’s strained voice called out.

Cas tilted his head in confusion and stood up to investigate what the guy could’ve been doing to cause him to sound so… laboured.

“Is that _the_ Sam?” Gabriel hurried along, curiosity fuelling his legs to move faster to catch a glimpse of the man who just came crashing into the house. Castiel didn’t respond, though; he was more busy ogling the five heavy duffle bags perched on Sam’s shoulders.

“Sam, it’s been two days.” He couldn’t help but subtly scold him. After all, if Sam was going to vanish for two days straight then he would’ve appreciated a heads up. He’s already had a lot on his plate to deal with lately, and his disappearance had only added to his stress. “Here, let me help.” He sighed tiredly and approached the gigantic man to take one of the bags from him and ease the load. He must’ve looked a little stupid doing it, though; Moose-man was an angel, and it was only after he had the bag in his hands did he realise that maybe five bags was probably nothing for the divine creature.

“Sorry, Cas. Dean said he’d tell you, so I figured I’d go ahead and leave.” The taller man chuckled sheepishly.

“Yeah, well, the only thing Dean’s told me is how _old_ I’m getting,” he huffed, clearly annoyed by the mention of the other angel’s name. ‘Damn, this bag is a lot heavier than I thought.’ Yes, the bag looked heavy, but not _that_ heavy. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, but the strain still made his arms ache a little. ‘These are all books?’ Cas was absolutely dumbfounded. Did Sam ransack a billion libraries or was Dean kidding about the books? He himself enjoyed a good read, but Sam was really something else. Shock aside, Castiel wouldn’t mind exploring the bags and sifting through all the books he may have stuffed in there. Embarrassingly, as he dropped the bag next to the couch, he began to ponder if these were somehow special bags. They were angels, weren’t they? It wasn’t so far-fetched to believe these could be some Mary-Poppins-styled carriers. There could be thousands of books in them as far as Cas knows… And the thought was much more appealing to him than it should’ve been.

Sam’s voice crashed through his wall of thoughts like a massive wrecking ball. “Who’s that, Castiel?” He blinked and turned to face Gabriel. Ah. Stupid. He should probably introduce them.

“Er, sorry. Sam, this is my older brother, Gabriel, and Gabriel, Sam. The angel,” he clarified. He went back over to help set the other bags down (since Sam was still dumbly standing there with them), and Moose-man sent Gabe a short but friendly wave. Castiel smiled slightly at the gesture and looked at his brother in anticipation, hoping he’d do the same.

What put him off was the fact that Gabriel instead looked… stunned. He was as still as a statue, his jaw practically touching the floor. There was a glimmer of something in his brother’s eyes; something he hadn’t seen in years. He just couldn’t quite work out what it was. Cas paused. Through the strands of hair that had fallen in front of Gabriel’s face, he witnessed a light, scarlet red wash onto his brother’s cheeks until his whole face was the equivalent of a field of poppies. When the older sibling finally moved, it was only to turn his head and avert his gaze. His mouth was pressed into a frown like he was in pain, or as if he were upset, and Cas found the frown infectious because it instantly spread onto his own face. ‘Is he sick? Does he still have a grudge against him because of what happened the first time we met?’ He felt a spark of concern. He wasn’t sure what was going through his brother’s mind, but judging by the way his hands curled into knuckle-white fists, it wasn’t anything pleasant - or so he thought.

“Have you caught a fever?” Sam was quick to ask, beating Castiel to it. He dropped the four bags that were once resting on his shoulders and began to approach Gabriel. “If it’s causing you agony, I can heal it-“

“No! No… er, I was… thinking of, uh - porn!” he stuttered out, and the flash of shame and mortification on his face was enough to tell him that he was definitely lying. What was wrong with him today?

Cas’ frown deepened. “Gabriel, there’s nothing wrong with admitting that you’re sick. Sam can-“

“Nope! I’m good. Totally good. Just got...” He exhaled deeply, his stance having finally gotten more relaxed. “...lots of stuff going on up there,” he ended, gesturing to his head. He shook it, seemingly thrown out of that sickly trance, his frown soon enough being replaced by his familiar goofy grin again. ‘Huh.’ “Hiya, Sammy-boy! Like Cassie’s said, the name’s Gabriel. I’m sure he’s told you _lots_ about me.” He shot Sam his signature finger guns while approaching him.

“Actually, yeah! I’ve been wanting to meet you for some time,” he chirped, reaching out his pinky to shake Gabriel’s.

‘What’s with angels and the pinky thing?’ Cas eyed the gesture oddly but ultimately shrugged it off. He’ll have to teach them about handshakes later. He frowned again when he noticed his brother struggling to maintain his smile while his body visibly tensed up at the action. Cas really wanted to ask why the hell he was acting that way, but something in his gut told him it was best to talk more about this privately. Oh well. “Y’know, I think I’m going to pack. Gabriel will fill you in on everything, right brother?” he started with a pat on the arm. He wasn’t sure what he did wrong, but the shorter man turned and looked about ready to rip his head off. Castiel bit the bottom of his lip awkwardly and glanced around, wondering if maybe he was infuriated by something else. To his dismay and confusion, he didn’t seem to be.

“Yeah, sure.” Gabe choked out in response, and Cas took that as his cue to leave. He'd never seen him so at a loss for words before. He nervously hurried upstairs to get his stuff, or more accurately, to get away from his brother’s deadly glare. Maybe he should get the holy water…

Cas gently knocked against Jack’s bedroom door, hearing muffled shuffling from the other side.

“Yeah, Pops?” Jack asked after he swung the door open, pyjamas draped over his body and his headphones hanging from his neck.

“Your uncle needs help on a case, so get packing, kiddo. We’re leaving in a bit, okay?” he proclaimed. Jack nodded, eyes cast down, shifting his feet. Cas mimicked the gesture, clicking his tongue as he sensed some discomfort radiating from the boy. “Hey.”

“Hm?” His attention was on him again, but he looked a little out of it.

Right. If they were going out for a case, there was a good chance that Dean and Sam would be tagging along. They were going to be next to each other a majority of the time; Jack was smart enough to figure that out. Cas tried to swallow down the quiet guilt that started to surface. “I know it's been some weeks since…”

“I know.” Since they threatened him. Since they were holding him in a dark room that seemed to have no doors. Where he was shaking, crying for help for God knows how long till his voice went hoarse and his throat was raw. Not knowing if he will come out alive or unscathed.

“I’ll tell them to stay here if you're still feeling-”

“No!” Jack cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders. “I'm fine. Sam’s nice. They can come.”

Cas stared. He knew Jack was putting on a better brave face than last time, but he was still his father. Whatever trauma he experienced couldn't just vanish into thin air. He'd seen the way he kept his distance from them whenever he could. Working alongside the people that hurt him especially wouldn't help his case.

He didn't push, though. Jack had said it was fine, so he'll acknowledge it for now. His son just some needed time.

“Okay… uh, remember to pack the salt pellets. Don't want you repeating that mistake like last time.” There was a faint melody drifting from Jack’s headphones as he spoke – an upbeat, catchy tune he couldn’t quite make out.

_'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play,_

_And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate_

“Sure, Dad. I’ll get on it,” replied the young boy.

“Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Is that-“ He pointed at the device, and the boy’s ears turned a gentle, rosy shade of pink.

“Hey, don’t judge it ‘till you try it,” Jack defended, his discomfort having vanished.

Cas lifted his hands in surrender, backing up. “No one said I was judging.” He chuckled and turned to head towards his own room, leaving his son to his devices. He grabbed one of his spare empty bags from out of the closet and threw whatever necessities he needed into it, from a couple of clothes, to a spare gun packed with silver bullets, and a knife. Most of his weapons were already concealed in the trunk of his car, but it didn’t hurt to be careful. He wasn’t sure how long they were going to be, but if Gabriel hadn’t found anything yet, then they were going to be staying at least a night. Once everything was packed, there was only one thing left to do – make sure he didn’t freeze to death before getting there. It didn’t take a genius to realise that the temperature outside made Antarctica look like a desert. He threw an old, red plaid shirt over his baby blue tee, and for extra precaution, he also slid on his cerulean, snowflake-patterned sweater that Balthazar had bought him. He’ll admit it wasn’t the most attractive thing, but it was warm, and that was enough for him in this chilly weather. Once he was done and pleased with himself, he swung the bag over his shoulders and made his way downstairs. What greeted him at the bottom of the stairs, though, was not pleasing one bit.

There Jack stood, bag in hand, but only dressed in a pair of jeans and a sleeveless white shirt that looked about as thin as a piece of paper.

Cas… was absolutely mortified. “Jack,” he began, giving him his signature dad look. His son looked puzzled as he tried to figure out what exactly he did wrong. “I swear, you’re going to get sick if you go out like that.”

The realisation of his attire settled in, and he only shrugged, seemingly not too bothered by his outfit choice. “I’m a lot stronger than I look, Pops.” He tried to smile his way out of this one, but Cas was having none of it. Strong or not, there was no way he was going to risk Jack’s physical health too.

“Try telling me that when you’re in bed, sick, and sneezing your head off,” he chastised, extracting a thick, red jacket off one of the coat hangers. The white wool sewn along the inside was perfect for this weather. It was insulating and comfortable - just the thing they needed. He gestured for the boy to hold his arms out, and he did so reluctantly with a loud groan of complaint.

“Daaaaaddd…” Jack whined.

“Not hearing it.” He tried to reach for a scarf afterwards, but Jack quickly rushed to the door and opened it before he could even lay a finger on the other item of clothing.

“C’mon! We need to hurry, Dad!” his son urged, and Castiel huffed disapprovingly. Well, at least he was wearing a jacket; that’ll have to do for now. He nodded and headed out the door after Jack, locking up behind them and making his way towards the car. Sam and Gabriel were already waiting outside and climbed into the back within seconds of him unlocking it. He took Jack’s bags from him while he got into the passenger seat, and Cas opened the trunk, dumping both of their luggage into it. He peeked over, seeing how packed the car was with the extra passengers, especially with one particular man who seemed to be extremely cramped in the back due to his large size but acted like everything was normal. ‘This was going to be one hell of a road trip,’ Cas thought as he shut the trunk and headed over to the driver’s seat.

He was not any happier with what he saw when he got there, though.

Despite the chilly weather, Cas’ insides blazed and was scorching as Dean was sat in the driver’s seat, leaning back and looking like he was having the time of his life. He was in _his_ seat, in _his_ car. The sight irked him, and he bit back a vexed exhale. He willed himself to lightly knock on the glass instead of banging on it like he so desperately wanted to.

“Dean! Open up!” he commanded sternly, and the angel grinned smugly at him, rolling down the window.

“Cassie,” the freckled man sang.

“ _Castiel_ ,” he corrected angrily. God, when will he ever listen? “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like? Taking this beauty for a spin.” Oh, Dean was _really_ pushing it. First he took away his personal space and privacy, and now he was taking his car. Great. Could angels even drive? The way he patted the steering wheel as he spoke, though - he wanted to believe it was to tick him off more, but the way he looked at his car… it just seemed a tad bit too affectionate. He'd expected angels to be more… divine. To feel like they're above human inventions, not like they’d run off and elope with his poor Chevy.

“Nope. Not happening.” Cas must’ve looked like a fool right then and there, standing out in the cold, knocking, and trying to talk a grown man out of his car when he clearly didn't want to budge. It didn’t help that the driver’s side was facing the road. He could literally get run-over any minute.

Dean was really making this as difficult as possible. “Oh c’mon man… Don’t be such a stick in the mud.” There it was again.

Cas straightened, throwing his arms up. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a few deep breaths and trying hard not to dent the door of his beautiful car. “Why the hell are you in here, anyway? Can’t you just, you know…” He did a flourish with his hand. “Fly, teleport, zap, or whatever, over there? And maybe have us just tag along with you? What’s up with that?”

The weather seemed even colder after the words left his mouth. He hugged his arms, waiting for a response, but there was none. Cas bent down again, expecting Dean’s usual, cocky expression. But he froze at what he saw instead. The angel’s face was as pale as the sky, wide-eyed with trembling lips. For the first time in a while, he was deathly silent. Choked up. He looked scared of speaking, mouth flapping open and closed like a fish, and Cas could feel a pang of concern welling up through the cracks of his frustration.

Sam cut through before the other angel could answer, though. “We thought it was unnecessary to just ‘zap’ over to where you want to go. This is what you humans call a ‘road trip’, right? I’ve heard they were great opportunities to bond. And, as your new allies, we thought that besides the weeks of research we’ve been doing, maybe this could finally be our time to truly, uh,” he coughed, “ _bond._ ” Dean swallowed and nodded along in agreement to that. He was blinking several times.

‘Was he serious?’ Cas scowled at Sam’s answer. That was the opposite of what he would’ve hoped. Their mojo thingy could’ve saved them the trip and time, honestly; but the sincerity on Moose-man’s face was genuine. Maybe they were actually good people - er... angels. Maybe this was a trap. If it was, he was damn good at hiding it. Well, what’s the worst that can happen, then? The black-haired man sighed. “Fine.” Dean seemed to light up to that, having regained his confidence, but Cas was already holding up a stern finger to kill his dreams. “But _I’m_ driving.” The angel looked like a kicked puppy, which was, again, out of the ordinary from his usual serious gaze. The frown he wore was scarily convincing, and Castiel had to keep telling himself that he was, in fact, just being a dick, and he needed to take the wheel if he doesn’t want them all to die in a freak car accident. “This isn’t a discussion, Dean. You don’t even know how drive. Out.” He huffed and ignored the peeved mumbles that slid out of Dean’s lips.

“Alright! Alright,” he finally growled. The door clicked open, and Cas moved out of the way so that he could get out. “Are humans always so wound tight about everything?”

“I don’t know, Dean. Are angels always so stuck up and stubborn about everything?” He retorted, and the two shot glares at one another as they switched places. ‘Scratch whatever he thought before; this is going to be a long, looong drive.’

 

 

 

 

The amount of times Cas wanted to crash the car during that ride… it was one too many. Maybe if Jack, Gabriel, and Sam weren’t in it, then he would’ve been more likely to do it. Dean was such a nuisance; he had no idea why he was so hell-bent, or in this case, heaven-bent, to get on every nerve crawling in his body. Maybe it wasn’t all the other man’s fault, though; he supposed that he hasn’t exactly been a good sport, either. At this rate, they were going to tear each other’s faces off by tomorrow, and Cas needed to talk to Dean before that happens. The only thing saving him from that so far has been his frequent checks on Jack, who seems to have coped with the incessant yelling by drowning in his music and leaning his head against the window.

Cas climbed out of the insulated car and tried to ignore the freezing weather that was ripping into his skin and plundering him of his warmth. God, he wished the spring would come already. He looked up. The motel they were staying at wasn’t fancy one bit, but didn’t look too shady either. Paint was chipping away from the motel walls. Weeds had broken their way through the concrete to begin their quest to consume the area. The neon-lit sign above that read ‘Lily Blanc Shoreline Motel’ was flickering slightly, the ‘h’ having already gone out completely. It was a shame they couldn’t afford better, but he always tried to get some place decent for Jack’s sake.

“This is…” Sam trailed off, presumably trying to find a word that wouldn’t offend Cas.

It didn’t matter, though; Cas was more than aware of the motel’s state. “Luxurious isn’t it? Fit for a king, if I do say so myself,” he finished sarcastically, a small laugh tumbling from his lips. He lifted the bags out of the trunk, and Gabriel grabbed some off his arms to help.

“His Majesties require only the best suites.” his brother joked, sporting an English accent.

Castiel chuckled at first, but instantly stopped when the word ‘Majesty’ sent his mind spiralling into the events from earlier. The bath. Dean. A light blush dusted his cheeks from the memory, and he bit the inside of his mouth, trying to stop the offensive shade from consuming the rest of his face. “‘Course,” he spluttered, quickly making his way into the building. The motel was somewhat like Kaia’s apartment building - crumbling on the outside, but relatively decent within. There were a few lively plants dotted around to brighten up the place, and, while there were a few odd stains, the place seemed to be tidy. The lady at the counter looked like she was ready to pass out right then and there, sporting some impressive eye bags. ‘Poor girl. Must’ve been a long night,’ he thought. He cleared his throat to catch her attention.

“Hiya. Welcome to the Lily Blanc. How may I help you?” she recited automatically, a robotic undertone to her voice.

“Hey! Uh… Room booked for a Mister Ackles?” he replied. The woman flicked through her computer to find a match for his name.

“That would be a Mister Jensen Ackles?” she elaborated.

“That’s right,” Cas confirmed. He felt a pair of eyes drilling into the back of his head after her question but ignored it. The receptionist’s face shifted into one of confusion when she counted the other men standing behind him, glancing up at him to silently reassert if they were all with him. When Cas showed no signs of being phased or uncomfortable by the four other presences, she decided to verbally express the question burning in her mind.

“Sir, are you sure you booked the right room? It says here you’ve booked for two beds but…”

“Oh, I’m sure. Trust me.” With that, she didn’t ask anything further and gave them their room keys.

“Have a comfortable and lovely night. We hope that you enjoy your stay. If there’s any problems, then you can call us on the phone issued in your room.” He nodded at her in acknowledgement and headed off towards their rooms with everyone trailing behind him. Everyone except for Gabriel, who stayed behind with the receptionist.

“Hey, Castiel; why isn’t your brother coming with us?” Sam inquired.

“He booked a separate room, that’s all,” was all he said. He’d already told Gabriel that he was fine with sharing a room with him, but his older brother still refused. His excuse was that he didn’t want to overcrowd the place since Sam and Dean would be with them, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was hiding something from him. ‘It’s probably nothing. Stop overthinking it, Cas!’ He watched Jack wordlessly enter his respective room as Sam followed in, seemingly ignoring his chattering. His son still seem troubled. Was it really a good idea for him to be alone with the angel in there?

“Wait, so why didn’t we get separate rooms?”

He could hear the hint of complaint and whining in Dean’s voice, and it caused his eyes to roll. This could wait till morning. He was sure Jack will be fine. He unlocked the door to their room before turning to face the divine man-baby behind him. “Because I don’t trust you, and I’d rather keep you two in my sights for as long as possible.”

Cas glanced at the clock stamped on his phone and sighed. It was getting late, but he was hoping that if he hurried, maybe he’d be able to hit up the crime scene for any clues or information. It was a long shot, but it gave him something useful to do in the meantime. He’d barely done up two buttons on his shirt when Dean sauntered into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Castiel’s face lit up like a million light bulbs, hairs instantly standing on edge. His first instinct was to throw on some goddamn pants because he was standing there, _in his boxers_ , and Dean was right in front of him.

“ _What the fuck, Dean!_ ” he shrieked, snatching his trousers from the top of the toilet lid and using them as a shield to hide his smooth bare legs and underwear. They need to stop doing this.

“I want to come with you.” the man stated simply, still acting like this sort of situation was completely normal.

“I- wh-“ he stammered, furrowing his eyebrows. “Come again?”

“You’re going out, right? I want to come with you,” Dean repeated, and Cas bit his lip, unsure of what to say. His brain could only process so much at once, and the shock of what happened is still hitting him hard. He tried to force out a reply - anything to get Dean out, so he can finish changing.

“Dean- Look, I’m just going to scout the crime scene. You don’t have to come; it’s not anything important.” He exhaled and leaned against the bathroom wall. ‘Need to add knocking to the list of things I need to teach them, aside from handshakes.’

“That doesn’t matter. This could potentially be linked to Lucifer, so I need to come.” Man, angels are so much more stubborn and determined than they are in the books.

“Alright, enlighten me then. What the hell has a case like this got to do with Lucifer, besides the ‘demonic sacrifices’ bit? It could just be demons fooling around.” He got the urge to cross his arms while waiting for an explanation but decided against it, since it’d only end up exposing his underwear. He wasn’t going to be able to let himself live it down if he did it. He proceeded to cross his legs instead.

“I’ve been thinking-”

“Oh, really? Didn’t know you could-”

“ _I’ve been thinking_ , a lot about this. And this case is… these child sacrifices... Honestly, it sounds a lot like the demons are trying to break the 40th seal,” Dean confessed, rubbing his stubble. His eyes were trained on the wall as if the gears were turning in his head again. He sighed, leaning against the door frame and looking up at him. He looked dead serious now. “The angels are losing this battle, Castiel.” The lines on his face deepened as his voice resonated off the tiles. It was really cramped in here. “The demons are breaking seals faster than you can blink, and if they’re already on the 40th, that spells big trouble for the rest of us. They’re way more than halfway through to releasing Lucifer, and we’re still sitting here on our asses with nothing to ride on. That’s why I want to come with you. I _need_ to come with you. This is a lot bigger than ourselves.”

“Do you think it’s…”

“Lilith? Maybe. We know she has a tendency to prey on babies, so I just assumed… y’know.”

“Huh. Tell me more about her, Dean… You’ve only briefly mentioned her. If she’s a really big part in this, then I need to know all I can about her, so that we have a better shot at winning this thing,” Cas urged. Something about what he said seemed to set something off in Dean.

His green orbs glanced at him for a fleeting second before they redirected their attention to something else; now purposely avoiding his gaze. When Cas followed it, he found him peering into the tiny mirror on the opposite wall. “She’s… the first demon. The first one Lucifer had ever created. Some time ago, she and a couple of other demons broke free from hell and have been attacking at the seals ever since. _So many of them have fallen to her already_. That’s why it’s so important that we…” There was a long and suspicious pause between his explanations, but Cas thought nothing of it. As far as he knows, this could be a difficult topic for Dean to talk about. “...kill her. To stop Lucifer, we have to kill her. But you need to understand that she’s one of the most powerful creatures out there. It won’t be easy.”

That’s when he saw something else in Dean - besides his cockiness, a sense of protectiveness seemed to stew underneath. It was admirable. Castiel placed his free hand on the other’s shoulder, patting it lightly and giving him a reassuring smile. “This line of work is never easy. If it’s any consolation, you can come with me.” The angel faintly smiled back despite his awful comforting, but there was a hint of sadness in his gesture - a misplaced feeling of regret lurking in it. This was the closest thing to the first heart-to-heart they’ve ever had, but something didn’t really sit right. What on earth was going on in his mind?


	4. That's Me

_“Don’t you realise,_

_I might be an angel in disguise?_

_It’s lonely to be free.”_

-✞-✞-✞-

 

Dean sat on the motel bed, leg bouncing up and down impatiently as he stared blankly at the wall. It’d been around fifteen minutes and forty-five seconds since Castiel kicked him out of the bathroom. He could hear the quiet chatter coming from Sammy and the kid in the background.

“So how many followers did you say you have, Jack?” his brother asked curiously, genuine interest bleeding into his voice.

“Thirty-six thousand. I don’t know why, but people enjoy the videos I make.” Jack was smiling, but Dean didn’t miss the hint of hesitation and nervousness in his tone.

“That’s - Wow, all those people follow you?”

Dean let out a long exhale at Sammy’s question. ‘Yes, Brother. He literally just said that.’

His brother was gawking. “So, you’re kind of like a god to them? Just like our father?”

Dean proceeded to roll his eyes, restraining himself from saying anything. He wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose - it’s not like he was interested in getting to know the kid as much as his brother seemed to really want to. It couldn’t be helped though; they were in the same room after all. He watched Sam closely as he poked at the instrument in Jack’s hands, much to the small human’s slight annoyance. Seeing how close he was standing to the boy, Dean could feel his vessel’s fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm as one of his hands curled into a fist.

Sam should really knock it off. It was clear that cuddling up to the kid was useless. Even if they did befriend him, it wouldn’t last. Both he and Sam knew that, and yet his brother wouldn’t stop persisting. He sighed, combing the vessel’s hair with his fingers - something that represented basic human frustration. ‘Man, human life is really starting to get to me.’ He pursed his lips, sights catching the face of a rectangular mirror perched above the drawers. As the seconds ticked by, his leg slowed its bouncing.

_“B-Bite me, big boy,” the human wheezed out feebly. Dean’s eye twitched at his remark, and he felt all his nerves sizzle and boil until he almost burst into a fit of rage. This ape had a lot of mouth on him, and it was really starting to get under his skin. He clenched his fist and raised it high to give him a whack that’ll surely knock him off of his high and mighty pedestal._

_But before he could even get the chance, a loud ringing boomed in his ears, wrenching his hand away from the gnat. His eyes were as wide as saucers as his mind was sent tumbling into a frenzy of thoughts. He felt his vessel’s muscles stiffen, and he chucked the human away, stumbling backwards as the ringing only grew louder. He hadn’t heard that ringing for, what? Centuries? The only being to ever contact him through angel radio since the fall was Sam; but it looked like that was about to change._

_‘Lay off him,’ a loud voice bellowed in his mind. He winced a little at the volume. The human was still curled up on the floor._

_‘Who the hell are you?’ Dean choked out. He tried to steady his breathing, but with every word that the voice blasted into his mind, he felt like he’d been winded. That’s...never happened to him before._

_‘I think you know very well who I am, Dean, as I do know of you.’ Fuck. Fuck. He thought that the extra sigils they carved into their true forms would hide their location. How did one of the winged fuckers find him? His head was buzzing. ‘I don’t have time to chat - especially not with a vile traitor like you. But if you continue to harm even a single hair on the Shurleys’ heads, then I will come down there and finish you and your brother off myself.’_

_‘Are you nuts? He’s the vessel of Lucifer! Having him dead is a blessing for all of us!’ He had no clue why Heaven or Michael would want the boy alive. This was the safest and easiest way to ensure that the Devil never shows his face on Earth. Shouldn’t they be thanking him and Sam for this?_

_‘Michael gave his orders,’ the voice informed irritatedly. ‘And it will be carried out as instructed. You, of all creatures, don’t get to question his commands. If it came down to it, mere rats like you and Sam can be easily squashed.’ Dean felt a little part of him sink upon hearing those words. The disgust and hatred dripping in their tone stung more than any physical wound he’s sustained in his long life. Holes in his heart that he thought he’d filled ripped open once more, and an emptiness crawled inside of it. There was a brief silence. He wasn’t sure if the angel on the other end had left, but it didn’t stop him from trying to talk, to dissipate the ugly feelings that the silence was feeding. His lip was trembling._

_‘We were once your brothers, too,’  he quietly barked. They grew up together, they watched the world below grow together. But...it was futile to hope that his brothers and sisters would still have a soft spot for him. Maybe it was Dean who had the soft spot. Even after all this time, he was weak. It was pitiful._

_‘Dean, you lost that right when you did what you did. We both know that.’ He swallowed the lump in his throat and gripped his head, trying to calm down the growing ache and emptiness beating from his heart. It was loud. It was so loud. No. He chose this life, he couldn’t start regretting it now. That would be stupid. It’d be weak._

_‘…But now that you mention it, there is a proposition I’d like to make. One from Michael himself.’ His mind froze as the words came crashing into him._

_‘A proposition from Michael?’ Though the heartache he felt still lingered and whispered in his ears, he focused all his thoughts on the declaration made by his ex-brother._

_‘You’ve been tracking the Shurleys for a while now haven’t you? You’ve learnt about them. You’ve even got one of them right in your grasp.’ He watched the human slowly turn over. ‘We want to offer you a deal: Get closer to them. Gain their trust. You’ve heard about the seals, no?’ Dean’s insides churned in anticipation. ‘Get the young one to kill Lilith and release Lucifer. Do that, and Michael is willing to accept you back into heaven. Back into our family. Let you and your brother be ours again.’ They must’ve been lying. Whatever game they were playing, he didn’t want in. He can still remember Michael’s angry and bitter roars as he and Sam tried to flee Heaven. How frightened he was. He can also remember…_

_He bit his lip, the darkness threatening to swallow him whole again. No. No. He wasn’t going to fall for this. Not after last time._

_‘You’re kidding, right? I just kidnapped his kid, and you expect us to link arms and sing Kumbaya? How do I even know if this isn’t some stupid trick to lure me and Sam into a death trap?’_

_‘You don’t. But think about poor Sammy.’ At the mention of his brother, he felt the icy coldness of the air bite through his vessel and prickle at the surface of his trueform. ‘Those sigils can’t hide you forever, and sooner or later, we’ll find you. The last show you put on was so amusing; we can only imagine what it’ll be like with little Sammy by your side. Is that what you want, Dean? Can you bear listening to his screams? His cries for help? Tell me, Dean, could you-‘_

_‘Alright!’ He could barely hear the groan from the human in front of him over the pounding of his heart. The achiness was screaming again, but not for himself this time. He wanted to scream at the other angels. He wanted to scream at Father for not doing a single thing about this, and it made him wonder if he was sitting somewhere in the universe, just watching and mocking him like Michael had. Like it was all a cruel game. His siblings knew every button to press, every way to twist him into getting him to do what they wanted. He hated it. He hated it more than he could say. He felt like the walls were closing in and there was no escape. He was trapped. It was do, or die. He bristled at the realization. ‘Alright. We’ll accept your stupid deal.’_

_‘I’ll tell Michael to switch off the fires down there, then.’ He grit his teeth at their sly comment and bit his tongue, forcing himself not to retort because he knew it’d cost him the deal - because it’d cost him Sam’s life. The other end went dead silent, and it took a few more ‘hellos’ from Dean before he knew that the angel had left to go do whatever douchey things they always did._

_He let go of his head and released a shaky, unsteady breath. He wasn’t going to enjoy this one bit, but he told himself that the outcome would be worth it. He could finally put an end to the countdown hovering above their heads that he’d been trying to avoid for oh so long. Sammy could go home again. He’d be safe. Safe. Now that he thought about it more, Lucifer was harps and rainbows compared to what Michael had in store if he caught them. Relief washed over him at the thought, but there was that small fragment of shame, that tiny yet loud voice that screamed profanities at him for being such a coward. He didn’t care. He made a mistake, and he dragged his brother into it. This was his one chance to fix it. Letting the Devil roam the Earth, that they weren’t even going to be inhabiting, beat anything Sam might experience... there._

_The angel stood up straight and stared at the shorter male in front of him. The ringing was gone, so the achiness had quietened. He wagged his head a little to shake the remnants away. ‘Okay. Gain a human’s trust. That should be easy.’ He held back a chuckle at his withered stance. ‘Does he think he can actually lay a hand on me?’_

_“Calm down, asshat,” he began, making sure the human was listening to him. “I ain’t going to kill you. Your son is…” The outcome will be worth it. The outcome will be worth it. The outcome will be worth it. He repeated those words in his head until they were practically seared into his mind. It was buzzing again, but differently. “He’s alive, okay? I’ll take you to him”-_

Sixteen minutes and twelve seconds.    

The human sure was taking his sweet time, and Dean was getting more and more fidgety by the second. He scratched his head and finally, at his wit’s end, stood up and stormed towards the bathroom. He thought this was an urgent situation, that Castiel would be hurrying for this sort of thing. ‘Do all humans move at the speed of a tortoise, or is it just my luck that I got stuck with the human embodiment of one?’ He didn’t mind wasting time, but not _this_ much time. He could feel Sam’s and Jack’s eyes burn into his figure wondrously as he raised his fist to knock on the door.

Just as he was about to do so, the door swung open to reveal one fully dressed Castiel. His eyes raked over the black suit that hugged the man’s frame. The fabric twisted around his body and dipped with every curve perfectly as if it were tailored just for him. Annoyingly, his usually unkempt hair was combed back to an even more stuck-up hairdo than before.

They stared at each other silently for a moment before the man spoke up. “What… are you doing?” Dean lowered his arm. He noticed their noses were inches away from each other, and stepped back. The shorter male furrowed his eyebrows, and Dean cleared his throat as he tried to direct the subject away from his embarrassing mistake.

“Are you ready to leave now?” he grumbled.

“Well, _I_ am.” Cas took a good look at Dean’s own attire. Was that a grimace? “But you look like you just got back from a family barbecue. If you’re going to come with me then the least you could do is make an effort to not look like a suburban dad who throws backyard parties every Sunday.” He pushed past him. Dean tried to scoff at his comment, but in reality, he felt a little confused. ‘What in Father’s name was a suburban dad supposed to look like?’ But considering the human’s tone, and the fact that the son was trying not to laugh, he would take it as an insult nonetheless. Just when he thought they had a moment. The man was as bitter as a cup of black coffee (not that he knew what it tasted like, just that he’s heard it tastes absolutely disgusting).

“There’s nothing wrong with the way I’m dressed! If anything, you-“

“I’m what, Dean?” Cas shoved a black blazer and a leather badge into his arms and sent him a challenging stare. He could feel the silent messages radiating from his burning blue eyes, daring him to try continuing his sentence. Dean huffed. He swallowed his words and shook his head, dismissing his unfinished comment. Instead, he held up the blazer and inspected it curiously. The human had moved to the other side of the room. “Put that on; it’ll make you stand out less. Also, keep the badge, you’ll need it.”

Begrudgingly, he did as he was told and sucked in a deep breath at how confined he felt with the new layer on. He shoved the badge into his pockets. The fabric was digging into his vessel’s shoulders. “Isn’t this a little small?” He looked down and uncomfortably pulled at the ends of the sleeves.

“Well, we didn’t exactly have any time to buy you a new suit now, did we? Just bear with it for now, Dean.” Castiel sighed as he threw on a cream-colored trench coat. Unlike Dean’s jacket, his hung loosely on him, and the massive sleeves made Cas’ hands look miniature in comparison. He looked...like a baby.

The man ignored his stare and ushered them towards the door. “Wait, where are you going?” They stopped, both heads turned to face the teen, who had stepped forward. Sam wore a confused expression similar to Jack’s, and Dean avoided his gaze. The clothing debacle almost made him forget about the other two beings in the room, and an old, uncomfortable feeling started to well up in his chest. He should’ve told him first - he knew wasn’t going to hear the end of it later. As he stared at his brother, he tried to wordlessly tell him not to worry. He tried to wordlessly tell him that he’ll be okay on his own. He hoped his silent message was loud enough, but Sam’s lack of reaction wasn’t a comfort.

Without wanting to, he shifted his gaze and noticed that there was a faint sadness in Jack’s eyes, a look that could speak a thousand words but also none. He tilted his head slightly in confusion at the sorrowful gaze. He wondered why the young boy was so upset and put off after hearing that his dad was leaving. Did Dean miss something, or…? “Can I come with you?” The words fell out of Jack’s mouth like a silent plea, and Dean didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered over to Sam for a millisecond. Ah. ‘I guess we were a little too rough on him back there.’ Dean bit the inside of his cheek and fought the urge to anxiously rub the back of his neck and shoulder. His whole body felt uncomfortably twitchy, and it’d been a while since he’d wanted to be out of a situation so badly. He was bouncing on his heels again.

“Sorry, kiddo… Just gonna scout the scene a little, so it’s nothing important. You’ve still got the money I gave you for snacks?” Cas said, walking over to Jack. Dean watched him pat the top of the boy’s head. The way his hand lightly brushed over his dirty blonde locks made him look as if he were handling the most fragile of glasses. And his voice. He was smiling as he spoke. It was the most gentle he’s seen Castiel ever been, and the contrast between this Cas and the wild one that tried to knock him out with an iron bar was perplexing. His father’s creations really were much more complex than he could ever comprehend. They were more than the barbaric primates he’d seen them be in the past, that’s for sure. Too bad it won’t be too long before fire rained down on their lands. It was almost sad.

“Yeah,” Jack responded solemnly, and something in his voice set Cas off. Dean watched the man's eyes soften, as if the many glaciers that floated in them had been simultaneously melted, and his mouth dipped into a tiny frown. An uneasy feeling crawled under the space beneath the door and leaked into the room. He could feel the tension wrap its wretched claws around them and hold them hostage as the awkwardness dug itself deep into every single one of them. He had to look away.

“I’ll call Gabriel to come watch you. How ‘bout that?” While Castiel’s suggestion made Jack’s body relax a little, there was no way of breaking free from the tense atmosphere that engulfed them. Sam was looking down his feet as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

“Sure.” He smiled meekly at his father.

“Alright.” Cas pulled out his phone and typed something into it that Dean couldn’t make out. By the time his fingers stopped their ceaseless tapping, he could hear faint footsteps resound from the hallway outside. “He’s heading over now. Don’t get up to any mischief. Okay, son?” The shorter male pulled Jack into a quick hug before he made his way to the door. While the boy seemed willing to be alone with Sam, Dean wasn’t a dumbass. He knew it was a façade. The boy was trying to look braver than he really was. He saw that, inside, Jack wanted to be with people he trusted and knew wouldn’t try to stab him in the back. The fact made something in Dean’s stomach twist and turn; it made him want to - what’s the saying? - ‘throw up his dinner’? He knew deep down that it was only because the teen reminded him so much of himself - _too_ much. He absolutely despised it.

He glanced at Sam, and the two nodded knowingly at one another. He knew his brother would protect Jack at all costs while he was away. ‘For the deal with Michael. We’re only doing this for the deal. Nothing else.’ Not for the kid, not for Castiel. For Sammy’s sake. Yeah… that’s it. He had to swallow down whatever weaknesses or weird feelings were surfacing in his heart. Now was not the time. He found himself absently rubbing his shoulder.

“Hey, are you coming or not?” He felt Cas tug on his sleeve and blinked for a moment, registering everything that happened.

“Right,” he muttered after a long, long pause on his part. This was an urgent situation. They needed to get Lilith. He can’t afford to get distracted like that again. As he cleared his throat, he pulled his arm away, and replaced his daze with a stone cold expression. “Let’s go,” he declared cooly. He followed Cas to the door, avoiding the stare of the rectangular mirror’s face when he passed by. ‘Focus, Dean.’

If Castiel was phased at all by his shift in attitude, then he didn’t show it. Instead, the two left wordlessly after waving goodbye to Sam and Jack. The hallway was thick with silence and uneasiness as they trotted down it; the only breath of fresh air they could capture was when they passed by a short mop of brown hair - Gabriel. He’d sent them both a short wave without saying anything, and after that second, the heavy atmosphere had tumbled back in and was crushing them once more.

Dean’s eyes were trained on the ugly carpet that stretched down the never-ending hall. The walk dragged on and on until even the sight of the bare walls and basic doors passing them started to agitate him. He subtly bit his lip as he tried to rack his brain for something to break the uncomfortable quietude. Any conversation he tried to make with Cas always ended in some stupid and petty bickering - was there even a point? He wanted to release a sigh of defeat and bear with the unpleasant situation, but he knew that this was his one chance to try and get closer to the shorter man beside him. If he could gain his trust, it could make this mission a whole lot easier. ‘C’mon, Dean. Man up! Sammy’s life depends on this.’

Just as he was about to open his mouth to finally produce some form of small talk, Cas beat him to it. “So, Heaven; it’s real? And there’s really a God?” Well, he sure didn’t waste any time getting to the point.

The mention of his father, though, sent Dean’s mind tunnelling down a burrow of thoughts that left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

“Yeah. There’s… there’s a Heaven… and a God,” he coughed out, forcing the words to leave his mouth. They existed, yeah, but Heaven - no, his family - was corrupt. They were foul. They held a wickedness that he thought only reached no farther beyond the boundaries of human life. Despite knowing that and having the marks to prove it, Dean couldn’t seem to beat down the undying love he retained for every single one of them. He tried to hate them - he really did. Even as Sam patched up his wounds and held his battered, pathetic body close for hours on end in the muddy dirt, he couldn’t let go of the love he held. The feeling always left him on edge. He tried desperately to engrain the image of their sneers into his brain as they fled through the gates of Heaven, but all he could recall was the fond memories of pulling pranks with Cael and Azrael and sneaking off with Cassiel to play in the colourful meadows in the mortal lands. Cassiel. “Say…” he began, and the man at question raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hm?” he hummed.

They took a slow turn after reaching the end of the hall that Dean thought was purposely suffocating them with its length. He was thankful of its mercy. “’Castiel’ is a pretty odd name to give to a child, isn’t it?” He was greeted by a gush of wind once they left the small motel. So distracted by his inner thoughts, his vessel swayed a little against the heavy draft, and he quickly steadied himself.

“My dad was really religious,” was all that left Cas’ mouth. He wanted to push for more, like, why? Why ‘Castiel’? But the human was having none of it and changed the subject faster than he could blink. “Tell me more about them.”

“Come again?” Dean wasn’t sure if he heard him right over the loud click of the doors opening and closing while the they climbed into Cas’ Impala.

He could sense the hesitation in the man as he paused momentarily to clarify his demand. “I… used to hear stories about Heaven – about angels and the work they did. I’m curious; what’s it really like?” he muttered. The surprisingly low volume of his voice made it sound like the question was shameful or embarrassing. ‘Weird.’ The angel tried to recall any interesting stories but found himself growing more and more reluctant to reply as his heartache returned to kick him in the ass and scream at him once again. Right now, he would pick the silence of the hallway over what he was hearing in his head any day. He wasn’t sure how long he was stuck thinking, but the car was already on the road and moving steadily to the crime scene. He looked over to find Cas throwing him small glances expectantly as he turned the wheel. Man, he was stubborn.

But Dean just...really didn’t want to think about it. He wanted the buzzing to fuck off, not make him deaf. ‘Guess this is one situation that I can’t escape. I gotta say something. Anything.’

“Big, white, and sparkly. Everyone’s butt naked, and sick classical tunes play twenty-four-seven. On some days, we like to go down and prank virgins and tell them they’re pregnant with Jesus.” He shrugged. It was easier this way; he’d rather tease him for centuries on end if it meant they didn’t have to listen to any of his angsty whining.

Cas’ face morphed into a peeved frown as he cuffed Dean’s arm. Didn’t he know by now that such things won’t hurt him? “You know what? Forget it. Do you ever quit being a dick?” the human bemoaned.

“I don’t know; people say it’s charming.” Dean shot him a wink, which only resulted in the other man looking like he was ready to run the car off the road and into a building.

“Yeah well, I think those people need to raise their standards,” Cas remarked.

The angelic being feigned hurt and placed a hand over his heart, gasping in horror. “You wound me, Castiel! I don’t know how I’m ever going to recover from that.” Annoying him was way too easy; maybe Dean was enjoying it more than he’d like to admit.

“Fuck you, Dean,” the man snapped, and he withheld the snicker that was crawling up the back of his throat. The car had stopped, and Cas was already out the door before Dean could say anything else.

 

 

 

 

After he had exited the vehicle, he inhaled deeply. The smell of organic molecules filled the chasms of his vessel’s nostrils - it was stronger and more different than what he smelled back at the motel. He peered upwards. The wind had weakened to the point that it only slightly ruffled the towering canopy of overhanging trees. He could hear the squawking and chirping of birds somewhere in the distance. Out of everything that Dean was considering he would miss before the coming end, he realized that he would miss this the most - nature. Everything in nature was simple. Unhateful. Free. Everything was green, and shuffling, and breathing, and living. It was just living. But he discovered that there wasn’t too much living matter to disturb on the ground as he looked down; the Earth’s floor was carpeted in colorful leaves of the dead.

As far as Dean knows, the deaths have been taking place in random locations, but all consistently at around three in the morning. This one just happened to be in the nearby woods. With every newfound information, he was more and more confident that this was indeed hinting at the 40th seal. Police tape webbed the perimeter, and a couple of officers still lingered by the scene to investigate. He couldn’t see a body anywhere, but his first guess was that the officers carried it away after arriving.

“Well hiya there fellas,” a policewoman greeted as she approached them. Her curly black hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, a friendly warmth radiating from her eyes. A welcoming smile graced her face, but it faltered a little after she caught sight of his attire. He guessed that Castiel was right; he did stand out a little in his outfit. Her smile widened again as she looked up at him. “What can I do for you?”

“Hey! Uh, Agent Ackles, and this is my partner, Agent Collins. We were sent here to investigate the recent killings?” He watched Cas mirror her pleasant expression as he flashed his badge. ‘Seriously? Is it that easy to wrench a smile out of this spoilsport?’ The two suddenly fell quiet, and he found the officer looking at him. What was happening? Her eyes suggesting that she was waiting for him to do something... He just wasn’t really sure what. Cas cleared his throat loudly and spoke again. “This is my partner, _Agent Collins_ ,” he repeated more loudly, subtly elbowing his side. Dean took another moment to try to figure out what they could be waiting for. Cas’ eyes were flickering back and forth. ‘What?’ He looked down and found him tapping the rim of the badge he’d just presented. ‘...Oh.’ He reined back the warm glow of embarrassment that was threatening to break through his vessel. If he let himself blush now, it was over; the woman would know he wasn’t human because when angels blushed, they lit up like a fucking lamp. He ducked his head instead and dug through his pockets. Ah! He hastily flipped open his own badge and showed it to her with a forced grin.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he croaked, and he saw Cas raise an eyebrow. A beat passed before the man reached over and snatched Dean’s badge, flipping it the right way round before returning it to him. That...was mortifying. “Right,” he muttered, looking down. He could feel it – the warm glow. Dammit. It was becoming more and more obvious. Dean lifted his hand to rub his face and used it as a shield to conceal the way his cheeks began to subtly emanate a gentle glow and the way his eyes began gleaming with the unnatural light. ‘Fuck, I nearly forgot how much I hated blending in.’ He ignored the way Castiel’s eyes drilled into him, and the angel coughed, an unspoken plea for help in his voice. He continued to rub his face. ‘C’mon, man. A little help here?’

“Excuse him. He’s… new,” Cas finally said after what felt like forever, a glint of confusion flashing on his face before he turned to face the woman with the same smile from earlier. “The place looks like a mess. You guys find anything yet?”

“Should’ve seen it when we got here - it was so much worse.” She jabbed a thumb behind her. “Vic’s name is Amy Roberts. We’ve already questioned her family. Aside from the freaky altar made of sticks and stones and the blood, nothing. Scoured the place from top to bottom. All we got is a bracelet.” the woman confessed, exhaustion and disappointment clear in her voice.

“A bracelet?” the men asked simultaneously. He didn’t expect that answer. Dean looked up at the woman, unsure of what to make of the evidence the officers uncovered. His blushing had become much more subtle, and he trusted the remaining light from the sunset to hide whatever glow was left.

“You’re welcome to have a look, but you’re gonna need these.” She handed them a pair of rubber gloves before she began to walk away. “I need to get going, but if you need anything, just call me.” Castiel gave her a nod of acknowledgement before slipping on the rubber gloves. Dean mimicked the action, fumbling a bit with getting all the fingers in the slots, and followed the smaller man when he began to look around the crime scene.

“Dean... Back there, what was that?” Cas asked when they were out of earshot.

Dean’s head dropped as his embarrassment was revived. He was hoping he wouldn’t ask about it. “I...don’t know what you mean.” He shrugged nonchalantly, which only earned a sigh from the other man.

“Don’t do that. You know exactly what I’m on about. Your cheeks and eyes were-”

“Look, I don’t know what you mean. Maybe you’re just seeing things.” For once, he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. ‘Well done, Dean. He’s really going to trust you now.’ He knew Cas didn’t buy it, and the growing irritation was evident on his face. A tiny part of him was pushing him to apologise, and he tried to stubbornly refuse it, but he knew that if he wanted to get anywhere with him - with the mission - he needed to try and soften up to Cas. No matter how unwilling he was. Dean’s eyes darted around for any type of distraction and luckily landed on the little yellow a-frame tent situated on the ground. He immediately sped towards it and ignored Cas’ little protests for him to slow down.

“That it?” Dean asked as he knelt on the ground and stared at the blue bracelet. It wasn’t one of those beaded ones – it was made of small, rubber bands of all different shades of blue. Like the sea. His eyes glanced at Castiel’s. ‘Different shades of blue, huh?’  “It looks like it could be the kid’s, but…” He trailed off as he turned back to poke it. ‘It can’t be, though.’

“It’s too big. A bracelet this size would’ve fallen off any child’s hand,” the black-haired man mumbled thoughtfully, carefully lifting it from its spot on the grass. The faint, sour tone that hung from his voice made Dean wince a little. “Give me your hand,” he commanded, and Dean, now slightly intrigued, did as he asked. He let Cas’ fingers lightly graze over his vessel’s skin as the human held his hand. Something about the way he held it made his mind do a double take. Even while he was seemingly annoyed by the angel, his actions remained light and careful. Every movement seemed attentive, but also cloud-like. It was so, so different from the frantic and crushing hold Cas had on his arm when he pinned him against the wall. He blinked. ‘What does it matter? Focus, Dean. You’ve got a job to do, so do it.’ Castiel held the bracelet beside his wrist, and a small noise of satisfaction emitted from the man’s throat when he noticed it was just his size. An adult’s size. “You already knew that, though. Didn’t you?”

Dean jerked his hand away from Cas’ and stood up. “Maybe I did. Didn’t think a demon would be into this type of jewellery, though.”

“They’ve got better taste than you,” the human quietly jabbed as he snapped a photo of the bracelet with his phone and carefully set the object down once more.

“Hey!” Dean yelled.

“What?” Castiel tilted his head in mock-confusion and looked at him with the most dumbfounded expression on his face. The most _fake_ dumbfounded expression, that is. “What is it, Dean? I didn’t say anything. Maybe you’re just hearing things.”

When those last few words fell from his mouth, he knew. Dean knew. It was payback for what he said. ‘He can’t seriously be _that_ bothered by it.’

“Dude, are you still annoyed by what I said-”

“No. Shut up. Come on, drama queen. Let’s go; there’s nothing else here.” The man went to stand up too, but Dean saw an opportunity. He really shouldn’t - he had to gain his trust, and this would only piss him off more, but… His growing annoyance as he replayed Cas’ earlier words spurred him on. He couldn’t hold himself back as he spitefully kicked the back of the human’s knees when he was wheeling around. Cas stumbled forwards and nearly fell flat on his face, barely catching himself with his hands as a small ‘oof!’ escaped from him.

“That dramatic enough for you?” he spat, folding his arms.

Cas was already up on his feet. “Dean, I swear-“ The shorter man seized his collar, and Dean waited, eyes cold and unwavering, for a punch or something to hit his face. But one glance around at the other officers on the site had Cas retreating and dusting himself off. “I’ll get you back for that later.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he challenged with a smirk.

A beat of silence passed between them where Castiel stared at him, a flicker of something dangerous swimming in the cerulean oceans that were his eyes. Dean wouldn’t back down, though. The blond narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to him in defiance. He could feel the tension already piling up even higher.

“...Alright.” Cas’ voice had gone deadly low, having dropped an octave. But he didn’t say another word to the angel, much to his dismay. Instead of transporting that tension to his fists, he broke their intense ogling to make his way back to the car, roughly bumping their shoulders as he did so. Dean pouted. That was no fun. He was kind of hoping to bring out that wild side that he’d seen back at the house.

He shook his head at the thoughts. Again, he needed to focus. He was trying to build friendships, not destroy them. ‘I should’ve just asked Sammy to go with Cas. He’s always had a better connection with these apes.’

“Dean! Come on!” Castiel urged, and Dean fought back a loud groan.

Humans are so complicated. “Okay! Don’t get your panties in a twist!”


End file.
